The Enchanted Chest
by cascade-of-black-ink
Summary: When Mallory Johnson finds an Enchanted Chest in her uncle's attic belonging to a mysterious princess, little did she know that it would lead her to fantastic lands of magic and lift the veil over her past. Set during the Witch's regime in Narnia.
1. An Enchanted Chest

Disclaimer: I own only Mallory Johnson and a certain few animals.

Chapter 1: An Enchanted Chest and What Mallory Found in it

This is the story of Mallory Johnson. She was eleven years old when this story took place, and this happened just a little before Pevensie children's first adventures in Narnia.

Her Uncle Bertram was an active hiker who loved hiking the mountains. That very summer he decided to explore the Scottish Highlands, and he decided to bring Mallory along and see if he could arouse in her a passion for mountain-hiking. At that time, there were air raids in London where Mallory lived, so her parents consented to allow her to go with her Uncle; hiking was a lot safer compared to air raids.

So it was with a lot of excitement, at the prospect of a little highland adventure, and a little sorrow for leaving her dear parents behind, Mallory packed up and set off for Scotland with her Uncle Bertram.

Uncle Bertram was the sort of grown-up who would let children have their way, which pleased Mallory up to no end. In his big house in Little Bammery, quite near the beautiful Scottish Highlands, there was no end of exploring to do. While her Uncle did all sorts of arrangements with his merry pack of fellow hikers, Mallory was told to do whatever she liked, as long as she didn't bother the grown-ups, so she opened all the doors and windows in the big house, and every night she tried a different bedroom and once on an excursion into the attic (which was extremely dusty), she found a beautifully made trunk decorated with strange runes.

She opened it (it was strangely unlocked) and found first a rolled-up map.

And what a peculiar map it was! It was very beautifully illustrated and coloured too, at that. The details were painstakingly recreated on the yellowed parchment, but the names of the places were nothing that she had ever heard of!

"Ooh, what names! Here's Tashbaan, what a beautiful city it looks like! And there's a great desert, I say, are the sands really moving? On to Anvard and hullo! that's a funny mountain, what's its name? Mount Pire . . . and then up to Stormness Head? Is that a mountain now? Up, up, up, ooh, look at those lovely green forests! What's this place now? Shuddering Wood . . . Dancing Lawn . . . hmm . . . Stone Table . . . up, up, up, what a lovely castle! Cair Paravel . . . and what a funny name too! But, oh, how familiar all these sound!"

And indeed she felt as if she had known these places, visited them and loved them in fact, (except for Tashbaan, she remembered with a sudden feeling of repulsion). But how could it be? She couldn't have gone into this land before. Anyway, she had no memory of it. She shrugged and rolled the map up carefully and looked into the trunk to see what else was inside it.

"What ever is this?" she exclaimed as she drew out an ivory object, after some studying she realised that it was a bow and attached to it was a quiver full of arrows. "Lovely!" she stroked the bow and tested its string. A gentle _twang_ rang out, the bow was in good condition and the arrows were slender and as pale as ivory too. As she tested the bow, she felt how right it was to be holding it this way, even though she had never touched one before, let alone use it, but it was so natural to put an arrow to the bow and draw back its strings.

"Super!" she placed the bow and the quiver on the floor and returned her attention towards the trunk.

Mallory saw a glint of steel and touched it. It felt cold. Her hands traced the line of the object and grasped a hilt. "A sword?" This time she was truly astonished. She pulled at the hilt and indeed it was a sword, still intact with its magnificent scabbard. She removed the sword from its scabbard and gasped at the length and the glory of its gleaming blade. The most surprising was that even though it was very heavy, she had no trouble holding it up at all. Thoroughly astounded, she sheathed the sword and put it on the floor next to the bow.

After that, she found many more amazing weapons: a shield with a crimson lion gloriously melded onto it; a beautiful and slim dagger, an ivory horn laced with golden runes, and another sword that was much, much longer than the first sword she found, and the blade of this sword was carved with fine runes that looked a lot like the ones found on the trunk and the horn. Curious now, she took a closer look at the runes, and found, to absolute wonder, that she could read them.

The ones on the second sword read: "Marcaras of Princess Alvarya at the Hour of Doom slayeth (what's that?) the Enemy and all Narnia will be saveth and Aslan appeareth at the Hour of Glory." She shrugged, not having the faintest idea of what it meant, but she felt that she had heard of the name Narnia and Aslan somewhere before.

Meanwhile, the runes on the horn said, "The blower of this Horn, the Horn Limaerya will find help at once, though none knows what help it bringeth, know only that the help is blessed of Aslan, Lord of all Narnia." Aslan and Narnia again.

Last of all were the runes on the trunk, which said simply: "This Enchanted Chest do belongeth to the Princess Alvarya of all Narnia and Archenland."

"Who's that, I wonder?" she asked aloud, but just as a bell had rang in her head, Uncle Bertram was calling her down for tea.


	2. The Map Opens

Chapter 2: The Map Opens

Mallory had no opportunity to visit the attic and the Enchanted Chest for the next few days. This was due to Uncle Bertram's sudden impulse on including her in the preparation for the hiking adventure. "No more loitering and start working!" Uncle Bertram waggled a finger at her. "This house is no place for a little girl to be poking around!"

"Why not, Uncle Bertram?" she argued as she replaced the batteries in a torch. She was extremely ruffled at not being able to do whatever she pleased, so much so that she had placed the batteries the wrong way.

"Tut tut, Mallory! The last thing your mother and father would have wanted was you spending all of your time in leisure! It's terrible enough that you won't study!" Uncle Bertram shook his head and clicked his tongue. Then he went to the big cabinet that stood at one end of the living room, drew out a drawer and gave a sharp cry.

"Great Scott! No rope, Mallory, no rope!" He turned to her with a horrified look on his face. "But I think I've got a coil in the storeroom! Come here, Mallory!" Mallory went obediently to Uncle Bertram as he dug into his waist-pocket (the kind that grown-ups love to wear and you can never understand why) and handed her a bunch of three keys.

"Take it, Mallory. Listen: the silver one opens the storeroom door and the bronze one, the small one here, is for the cupboard with the rope in it, hopefully. Now move along!"

"But what about this golden key?" Mallory separated it from the other keys and held it up to him.

"Tut tut TUT! Children! Just get the rope for me, will you, Mallory? Be a good girl! Curiosity kills the cat you know!"

"But I was just asking - "

"Mallory!"

"Yes, Uncle Bertram."

She flew up two flight of stairs up to the storeroom on the third floor of the house. She unlocked the door and retrieved the rope. But just as she had locked the door, she caught sight of the short flight of steps leading up to the attic, and wondered if she could take a quick look at the lovely map again.

"I'm sure Uncle Bertram wouldn't mind," she whispered to herself, her eyes glittering with excitement. She climbed the steps and pushed open the attic door.

As it was a wonderful English countryside day, the sunlight streamed in dreamily through the rose window on the wall directly facing the attic door. The Enchanted Chest stood directly beneath the window, so the chest was covered in the beautiful sunlight as well. Mallory slung the rope onto her shoulder and knelt.

Then she opened the chest and took out the map. With a delirious grin on her face, she sat on the chest, unrolled it, and her eyes strayed to the fierce mountains of Archenland.

"_Archenland, Archenland _…" a song stirred in her heart. "_Mountains tall and valleys deep, peaks of stone and fields of green, sing my heart let yourself be heard, let your voice echo through the sky …"_

She squinted closer to the mountains, and it grew bigger and bigger until it engulfed her. That was when she finally panicked.

"Oh my!" she looked behind and found the attic shrinking behind her. Forwards, the sight of harsh peaks flew past her and there was a pleasant glade in the middle of the forest. Suddenly she found herself standing in the glade.

And feeling very afraid. To her utmost surprise, the chest was beside her, and the map was still clutched in her hand.

"Oh bother!" she opened the chest and threw the rope into it. "Bother! Bother! Bother! I don't know where I am or how I've gotten into here but Uncle Bertram will not be happy!"

She folded her arms and sat on the chest as she looked about. Behind her were the mountains of (if the map was to be believed) Archenland, and (if she was right) she was in Narnia.

Suddenly, she caught sight of a shadow among the trees, and it was moving towards her. Mallory thought first of running away, but she was frozen to the chest. Finally, as the shadow came out into the light, she stood and stared at it.

The shadow turned out to be a creature, a majestic creature that was both so terrible yet great at the same time. Its magnificent body and large paws showed a beast, but its eyes swam with good and meaning. Mallory had seen such creatures before; but this was different thing entirely. She was afraid of his bearings, terrified even, but at the same time, a splendid memory of the creature came to her mind, and as she let the memory envelop her, she felt the fear ebb away and a warm feeling of gladness course through her veins.

But she had forgotten his name.

"Greetings, Mallory," the Lion said, his voice gently caressing her nerves, "I am Aslan, and I have a task for you, O Daughter of Kings."

* * *


	3. A Task for Mallory

Author's note: Thanks for the lovely reviews! Really lifted my spirits!

Chapter 3: A Task for Mallory

"A – a task?"

"A task," the Lion repeated. He moved closer towards her, his great eyes never leaving hers. Mallory fought not to look away from them.

"What is it, O Aslan?" she found herself saying calmly, whereas her heart was beating ever so furiously. She wondered where she had found such courage, but it felt strangely familiar.

"Look, Mallory, look to the mountains, the mountains of this great land of Archenland," with his great paw he pointed at the forbidding peaks, but before he could continue, she had interrupted with a great feeling of shock: "Not Narnia?"

"Not Narnia," his paw dropped to the ground and he looked at her solemnly, with a hint of sternness in it, "Narnia is covered in snow and sleet and imprisoned in eternal cold, the work of a terrible tyrant. Therefore you must help me break the frost. You must help me recover what was once your home, and mine, and for many creatures that I love and cherish."

"Once my – home?" she asked, suddenly frustrated at her inability to form full sentences.

"Once," he repeated firmly, but patiently. "But the time is not ripe for you to discover the meaning behind it. Not yet. Now your help is needed. But your path does not take you to Narnia, but to Archenland, also it was your home just as much as Narnia was. But listen, hearken to me, and embed this in your mind. Listen, listen." He held her gaze and she fell silent, all thought of speech flew away. All that mattered now was listening to his speech.

"As cruel as Mount Pire is, it has a good heart, like the giant that formed it. At its foot, hidden by thick forests of only pine trees, lay a valley. In the middle of the valley is the House of Father Christmas. He is to prepare some very important presents for some important people, but because he is not as young as he was, he is unable to accomplish this task. However, this task is crucial for him to complete, for if he fails, Narnia cannot be freed.

"You are to help him, Mallory. Help him prepare the gifts. He will reward you most handsomely, and by the time the presents are ready, he will be able to enter Narnia and defy the tyrant's magic. But you must go with him on his sleigh. Do you listen to me? You must ride on his sleigh when he makes journey for Narnia, for it is only with you that the spell can be broken.

"That is not all, O Daughter of Kings. After you have entered Narnia and helped Father Christmas into it, you are to make your way back into Archenland, this time, to the foot of Stormness Head. There live the exiled Talking Animals. Their chiefs are Lord Gaurung and Lord Marvyr the Talking Leopards. Lead them to the Dancing Lawn, where I will wait with the Dryads and Hamadryads and the great Spirit-creatures. From thereon, you shall come with me to the Stone Table, and we will prepare for battle."

When he was finished, Mallory was deathly silent. Her face paled considerably, but her heart felt a good deal braver. She tried to appear calm as she said, "I listen, Aslan."

"Do you?" he asked kindly, and placed his heavy paw on her shoulder. "This is a heavy task. I will not make you do it if you do not wish to. I know that you are in a hurry to return the rope on your shoulder - " at this Mallory jumped a little and thought of Uncle Bertram, "to its owner. Are you willing to undertake this little quest?"

Mallory drew a deep breath and nodded, even though her stomach was churning a little. "Yes, Aslan." Then for good measure she added, against her will, "By all means allow me to perform in your honour, for such grace and glory have never touched my heart."

Aslan withdrew his paw and nodded. "Then go, Daughter of Kings. Go forth and perform your task; for your help is much needed."

"But Aslan, O great Aslan," these words were strange to her tongue yet felt suitable. "Will I do this without help?"

The Lion seemed to be thinking deeply for a few moments, then he shook his golden and smooth mane. "Have courage, Mallory. You will find help along the way . . . only, expect to find it when you least expect it. If there is none at all, the Chest will aid you," he put his paw on the Enchanted Chest and gave it a gentle stroke. "But you must move in haste. Haste! Haste!"

Then he simply vanished.


	4. The Eagle Who Couldn't Fly

Author's note: Thanks for the glowing reviews! Here's to Mallory and Aslan!

Chapter 4: The Eagle Who Couldn't Fly

Mallory could only blink in surprise and wonder if the Lion was all but a fantastic dream. The glade was as still as it was when she had first touched down here. Could that Lion, was his name Aslan, be real?

The only thing that could argue with that was the heaviness and warmth on her shoulder, whereupon Aslan had placed his paw. She touched the spot and all his golden majesty and goodness came rushing back into her veins. She drank deep from the wonderful feeling and felt certain now that he was for real, that she was sane and hadn't seen him as an illusion.

Mallory remembered what Aslan had told her about carrying out a task for him. "Surely nothing will stop me from completing the task!" she exclaimed to herself, and felt both proud and pleased of herself. She looked for a moment at the mountains rising high and nigh above her and frowned. How was she to tell which was Mount Pire?

Then she remembered. "The map!" She knelt at the foot of the Chest and opened it, at the same time wondering how the map could have gotten into it without her putting it in. Magic, she supposed. Yes, pure Magic.

Having found the map, she sat on the grass and studied it. "Mount Pire … where are you? There you are! Oh, and look at your funny peak! Aslan did mention about a giant forming you, I suppose it was a two-headed giant! Oh, how charming! But I musn't laugh at you! You've got a very important person living at your foot, did you know? I suppose you do!" With a merry laugh, she rolled it up and chucked it back into the Chest.

Suddenly she thought about what should she do about the Chest. She couldn't just leave it there. Surely there would be some sort of robbers or raiders roaming the woods and would most certainly take it away with them. And the worst part of it all was that the Chest didn't even belong to her!

The coil of rope slung over her shoulder moved a little, as if making its presence known to its new owner.

"Oh, but of course! How silly of me!" Mallory uncoiled the rope and tied it around the Chest in such a way so that she would be able to drag it with her. "There now! But oh, bother! Now I will have to pull you all the way to Mount Pire!" she was a little annoyed at that thought, but instantly felt ashamed, because Aslan's words rang in her mind, "If no help at all comes to you, the Chest will aid you."

"I'm sorry, dear Chest," she said to it, knowing full well that it wouldn't reply, but the Chest seemed to have a spirit of its own. "I'll never speak so beastly to you again. Cross my heart, I won't!" And at that, she heaved a sigh and shouldered the rope and began to pull.

The Chest didn't turn out to be heavy after all, in fact it was lighter than she had thought it to be, yet it was not too light so that it felt as if she was pulling her toy duck (the one that had wheels on it) like she did when she was much younger. In fact, it turned to be quite enjoyable, and not to long after, she began humming a tune she had never heard before.

At first Mallory stopped, astonished at herself. Then when she felt that she was a little saner, she continued pulling through the woods. The tune came again. But this time, Mallory didn't stop because it sounded quite familiar now, as if she had heard it and sang it a long time ago. It goes like this:

'_Valley sweet, river rush; my beloved Narnia sings; leaves of green, song of thrush; my beloved Narnia calls; sky of blue, meadows fair; my beloved Narnia croons; but shall I see it ever more, that I do not know._'

It was a very sad song and it made Mallory's eyes blink with tears, because the images of the very beautiful land that she sang about came flashing into her mind. She saw the pleasant valleys, sloping hills; she heard the fierce rush of a great river and heard the singing of a bird. After those images passed, there came more of them, but this time everything was covered in snow, like some sort of winter wonderland, only, there was a dreadful and bitter feeling about it. Then she saw a tall and terrible-looking woman with impossibly pale white skin pointing a sharp object at an animal and the animal turned into stone.

All this was so sorrowful and horrible to bear that Mallory had to sink to her knees and weep to accommodate her bursting heart. But the weeping was short, because after the cruel images passed, a wonderful, golden one floated into her mind. In the middle of the golden image was the golden silhouette of a great lion, and Mallory knew that it was Aslan and he would right all wrongs and that she wouldn't have to weep and worry anymore.

Then slowly the image faded and showed four figures coming out from behind thick clusters of snow-covered pine leaves. She realised that they were humans, and they were boys and girls of almost her age. There were two boys and two girls. Their leader was a tall and fair-haired boy that looked to be some years older than her. The youngest of them all was a little cherub whose eyes were shining with excitement, a sharp contrast with those of the eldest boy, whose grey eyes were clouded with worry but sharpened with caution. Before Mallory could dwell upon that image any longer, it disappeared, and when she opened her eyes, she had arrived at the foot of the mountains.

Mallory was truly, thoroughly surprised, but she hadn't any time to dwell on this startling discovery when she heard a moan somewhere off to her left.

She moved towards the noise, half-afraid of what she would find, but it had a powerful pull on her. Furthermore, she was a very curious girl. The moan sounded again, and this time, she could pinpoint from exactly where it came from: behind a copse of bamboo trees that couldn't have existed in an ordinary forest, but this was Archenland, and anything could happen.

Mallory tiptoed round the copse and found an eagle sitting like a human would with its back against the bamboo trees. Its wings were large and magnificent and gold at its edges. Indeed it was a very big and beautiful eagle, almost bigger than Aslan, she was sure. But why was it crying like this? Surely such a great creature like that didn't have a reason to cry?

So Mallory said to it kindly, "Hullo there, Mr. Eagle. Why are you crying?"

The Eagle looked up and, seeing Mallory, dropped its golden beak, like a grown-up would drop his or her jaw upon seeing that you had broken a favourite vase.

"Who – who are you, Daughter of Eve?"

"My name is Mallory," she replied, and did a little curtsy.

The Eagle closed its beak and sniffed. "Well, hello then, Mallory. And good day to you." Then much to her surprise, he went back to crying.

Mallory couldn't bear to see such a wonderful animal crying, so much so that she had quite forgotten that Eagles, no matter whether they were beautiful or not, were not supposed to talk, but if you had met Aslan before you had met any other creatures in Narnia or Archenland, you would find that nothing could ever fail to surprise you anymore.

"Oh, don't cry, Mr. Eagle!" Mallory knelt beside it and stroked its smooth feathers. "You're such a good-looking and handsome Eagle! Cheer up, Mr. Eagle! You're the finest Eagle I have ever seen in my life!"

The Eagle looked up again and his keen blue eyes (quite red, though) studied her for a moment, and then sniffled again. "Thank you, Daughter of Eve, you – you are exceedingly kind. But," it gave a huge sob, "What use would all this be: these well-groomed feathers, these powerful wings, fearsome talons and courageous beak, if – if you couldn't …"

At this he trailed off and wailed and howled with true sorrow and wretchedness. Mallory was a little irritated at this and wanted to know what he couldn't do, so much so that she snapped quite angrily like all sensible girls do, "Stop it, Mr. Eagle, do stop it! You are a fine _baby, _that's what you are! You're not an Eagle, not all, you're a right old wimp. If you've had a proper, beating, true Eagle heart, you wouldn't crying your eyes out all over like this and spoil your excellent eyesight. Pull yourself together, Mr. Eagle! You should be ashamed of yourself! And if Aslan ever saw you like this, I shouldn't be surprised if he gives you a good shake of your feathers!"

At the mention of Aslan, the Eagle turned beet red and sniffed heavily. "Why, little Daughter of Eve, I suppose you are right! Oh, how silly of me, and how true of you! Aslan would be ashamed to see a Talking Eagle like me cry. Oh dear! Oh dear! I've made a thumping old fool of myself; indeed I have!"

Mallory smiled. "There you are, Mr. Eagle! Put on a brave face! And tell me, you needn't be ashamed, what's wrong with you?"

The Eagle looked mournfully at Mallory, and judging by the way his beak was quivering, he was trying his best not to burst into tears. It took a lot of stutters and clicking of his beak before she could finally understood what he said:

"I can't do a very important thing!"

That got Mallory all hot and bothered again. "Oh bother, bother, _bother_! Come now, Mr. Eagle! I'm sure that it's not as terrible as you make it to be! Listen here, when I was younger I couldn't even catch a ball properly, and how they laughed and called me 'butterfingers'! I cried and cried at first, but afterwards I came to my senses and realised that I must try harder than ever, so I did my best the next time we played ball and I managed to catch it! Do you see it, Mr. Eagle, everything has a solution! Everything!"

"But you don't understand!" the Eagle looked positively miserable now. "I – can't – FLY!"


	5. A Band of Narnians

Author's note: The 'King of Fruits' here is referring to a popular local fruit in my country that's called 'durian'. If you ever had the chance to taste it, don't pass it up, because it really is delicious!

Chapter 5: A Band of Narnians

"Well!" Mallory only managed to say. "Well!"

"Well?" the Eagle heaved a sob and looked away. "Now you know! Oh, I am so ashamed of myself! Not being able to fly! And do you know what came of it? I was turned out, yes, turned out from Stormness Head!" Now he burst into open weeps and tears flowed from his red and sore eyes. "The Talking Animals think that I am no use to them. Oh, Daughter of Eve, if only you knew the pain, the pain of rejection!"

Mallory could see full and well now why the Eagle was so miserable. If she was in his shoes she would have been just as self-piteous. Now she no longer felt angry at him, nor did she find him silly. Instead she felt very sorry for him. Were you Mallory, who generally loved animals, you would have felt the same.

So she did her best to comfort him. She said encouraging words to him and tried to make them grand and a little airy. All this paid off when the Eagle finally laughed and said, "All right, Eve's Daughter, no more praises! I'm feeling loads better now, so I shall stand and stretch my wings!" He stood and opened his wings just like any of us might stretch like a cat after sitting or sleeping for too long. Mallory saw the true length and size of his wings and felt that it was a real pity indeed that he couldn't fly.

Suddenly she remembered Aslan's task. "Say, Mr. Eagle, do you know the way to Mount Pire?"

"Eh, Mount Pire? Of course I do!" the Eagle beamed at her and dabbed his eyes with one wing. "I'm Narnian all through and through, but in my youth I have oft journeyed to the House of Father Christmas in Archenland for Christmas!"

Mallory's eyes lighted up. "You do? Oh, that's – that's super! For you see, I have a task to do!" And she told him about the task that Aslan set upon her.

The Eagle's eyes widened more and more as she progressed, and when she had finished, he looked astounded. "By the Lion's Mane, seeing Aslan himself! It is my childhood dream! But, why of course, I would be glad to guide you to the House of Father Christmas. It is a wonderful place, and he is such a kind Father too! Come with me now, come with me! If only I had been able to fly, I reckon we could have gotten there before the day ends (I know the power of an Eagle's wings, flightless I may be!). Come now, come now! Don't let's dawdle. And by the way, my name is Firumel, just Firumel. Off we go!"

"Thank you, Firumel. Oh thank you!" Mallory did indeed have a good reason to thank him, for if she had not met the Eagle, or tried to comfort him, she would have gotten lost in Archenland and fail to accomplish the task. Then she would be dismayed and sent back to her own world feeling very angry with herself, and she would have to answer Uncle Bertram too. But what was worse was disappointing Aslan again.

Mallory and Firumel skirted the foot of the mountains throughout the next few days, always looking out for a forest of only pine trees. During the day they travelled and they slept by night. They went at quite a leisurely pace. Even though Mallory often insisted they went faster, they never quite managed to do so. This is because the true weight of the condition of Narnia that Aslan had presented to Mallory hadn't quite terrified their wits yet, and this was very pitiful indeed, because this caused them to think that there was no need to hurry.

To add to their laidback manner, the journey was quite easy too. There was no shortage of berries and apples and (curiously) a thorny, smelly fruit that disgusted Mallory at first sight. Firumel said that the fruit was quite tasty inside, and didn't bother to see if Mallory would consent to eating it before he proceeded to bring it down. He brought the fruit down with a throw of the stone (an odd sight but not if you are in Archenland and it's a Talking Eagle doing it) and tore it open with its talons.

Its flesh was bright yellow, quite like the colour of corn, and it smelt horrible. Mallory pinched her nose and said indignantly, "I'm not eating that!"

"Yes, you are!" Firumel picked one piece out with its beak and picked the delicious flesh out from around the seed until there was only a gleaming orange, oval-shaped seed. Firumel threw the seed away and clicked its beak. "Do try it, Mallory. It's fantastic!"

And because Firumel didn't throw it all up, Mallory decided to be brave and plucked a small piece out. She stared at it, her face quite green, and put it into her mouth.

The taste of the fruit was wonderful and soft and creamier than any milk she had ever tasted. She found no words to describe its taste; all she could think of was how incredibly tasty it was! And when she was busy finishing that particular piece, Firumel continued with another one. After they had finished one section of the fruit, he tore at it and there were two more section of the fruit. And, oh, that was even more heavenly than the first ones! Mallory and Firumel ate it all so eagerly that they didn't realise that they were full to the lining of their stomachs when the whole fruit had been properly cleaned out.

"Oh, Firumel, what a delightful meal!" Mallory sat on the grass and clutched her full stomach. "But how curious, I'm feeling very warm now! As if I'm having a fever!"

Firumel cackled and settled on the grass. "It's always like this when you've eaten the King of Fruits! You get really hot and very, very drowsy. But it'll all go away after a good sleep, don't you worry …" and with that he had shut his eyes and went into deep sleep. Seeing Firumel asleep, Mallory gave a short laugh and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

When they both awoke (at the same time), they were unbelievably thirsty. They strolled around, looking for a nice stream, and when they had found one, they drank deep from it, for the fruit seemed to have sapped all the water out of their throats.

"Salt water's most effective," said Firumel after they had quenched their thirst and felt like themselves again. "But we haven't got any sea anywhere near. Come on, let's get a move on, shall we?"

And they did. They went on and on at the edge of the mountains and had more helpings of the King of Fruits until Mallory had gotten quite fed up of them. Actually, she was very tired of everything. If you were Mallory, you would feel the same too. Imagine having to do nothing but walk in the forest, eat fruits, drink from streams and sleep on grass. It might sound very nice, but having to do this for several days was very, very tiresome.

Firumel, however, was good at ticking her off. Whenever Mallory complained of having to eat nothing but berries, he snapped, "Be thankful that you've got good berries instead of poisonous ones." And when Mallory grumbled about sleeping on nothing but grass, he bit her head off by saying, "Thank Aslan that you've not been sent to cross the desert to Calormen!"

Nothing very eventful happened during their journey; for no enemy dared to enter Archenland when King Rufus, father of King Lune, was ruler of that land in Anvard. But there are Narnians who managed to escape the iron fist of the White Witch and managed to cross the mountains into Archenland. They were rare, but as fortune would have it, Mallory and Firumel met up with one such band one fine evening.

Firumel was the first to greet and recognise them, for his eyes were sharp and he had oft been in Narnia before the Great Winter fell upon his kin.

"Greetings, fair Narnians! Have you any news of that land that now lies helplessly under the tyranny of the Witch Jadis?" he called out to the merry but sad-looking band that were huddled around a crackling fire.

Among the group were three Fauns (such curious creatures, thought Mallory), four Dwarfs, a pair of Talking Foxes and an army of Talking Mice. Upon hearing Firumel's greetings, one member of the Talking Mice jumped up from his perch and pointed a short wooden sword at the Eagle.

"Ho there, Talking Eagle! What is your business, for Talking you may be, you are no friend to me!" it squeaked bravely.

One of the Fauns named Corcus said tiresomely, "Keep your sword and hold your tongue, Cheeveereep! A Talking Eagle of Narnia is more welcome than your bitter words and foolish courage!"

The Mouse Cheeveereep gave a shriek of anger, but it kept its sword nevertheless, and went back grumpily to the fire, amidst the tinkling laughter of the Talking Mice.

Mallory liked the Faun at once, for he had a nice and pleasant face that was sure to guarantee your trust. Plus, he did not look like an Enemy, and his words were kind. "If it pleases you, Mr. Faun, the Eagle Firumel and I are on our way to the House of Father Christmas!"

There was a round of rowdy clapping and cheering when the Narnians heard them. "Hurrah! Hurrah! Father Christmas has not been able to enter Narnia for an age!" said Corcus, his eyes shining with excitement. "And we certainly haven't an inkling as to where he lives! Do you? Do you know?"

Firumel was not very pleased with this, because, like all Eagles, he was a haughty creature, and liked to keep precious information to himself. He opened his beak to say, "No, I don't." but Mallory had rushed forward and said, "Firumel does! Firumel does! He's been there a number of times for Christmas!"

There was more cheering and clapping and the Mouse Cheeveereep stood and bowed at Firumel. "I beg of you, good Eagle, to guide us to the House of Father Christmas, for never have my heart longed for such comfort in a familiar figure of legends. We could all use a little bit of Christmas cheer in our hearts!"

"Why," said Mallory, who had begun liking Cheeveereep. "What's happened in Narnia? Why do you sound as if you haven't had Christmas at all?"

"It is all the work of the White Witch!" another Faun called Grumbus called out. "She is the one who has made it always winter in Narnia but never Christmas!"

"Oh, how horrible!" exclaimed Mallory, and she remembered the image of the Witch that she had seen before, of her turning an animal into stone. All at once, a sensation of horror and dread fell upon her, so much so that she shuddered. "How horrible of her!"

"Yes, she is a beast!" Cheeveereep cried, waving his wooden sword angrily. "I shall smite her where she stands! I shall tear her glorious gown from her skin and see how she likes the icy touch of the frost against her bareness! And I've a good mind to knock that _thing _she calls a crown off her head and throw it into the Sea! Oh yes, oh yes, I will, see if I don't!"

"Don't be silly, Cheeveereep!" said Corcus, unable to stop shaking, for all the Narnians, including Firumel and Mallory, were doubled up in laughter. Cheeveereep blushed at realising the foolishness of his words, but he said most chivalrously, "Well, it doesn't hurt to dream!"

"No it won't," said Grumbus, his voice as grainy-sounding as his name. "The only ones who can do that are Aslan and the four Children of Eve, as is according to the Prophecy. But it's good calling, Cheeveereep. Good calling!"

"Four Children of Eve?" Mallory asked, curious now. "You mean, two boys and two girls?"

Corcus and Grumbus gave her odd looks. "Why, of course! Haven't you heard it before? _When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone, sit in Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done!_ When two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve sit in Cair Paravel, on their rightful thrones, the evil will be done with and Narnia will rejoice again!"

"No, O good Fauns, never have such Prophecy touched my ears," she replied solemnly, sounding again, like another person she felt familiar with, yet not knowing who exactly. Firumel felt the difference, and he moved his wings uncomfortably. "Mallory, I think that it's well time that you sleep!" he said at last.

The Fauns nodded in agreement and the elder Talking Mice began ushering the younger ones to go to bed too, though there was no bed, but for Mice, a good patch of grass will do.

Mallory was outraged and became quite herself again. She had quite gotten it into her head that no one was to tell her off to sleep when she was having a great adventure, so naturally she resisted. "No, I shan't. I'm old enough to stay up."

"You're tired, Mallory. And we're quite near to Father Christmas's House. Surely you don't want to come knocking at his doorstep with black rings around your eyes!" Firumel put a wing around Mallory and tried to steer her away from the Narnian band to a nice spot under a great oak tree. Mallory had to concede defeat, for his wings were powerful and the way he wrapped it around her back made it impossible for escape.

Once they were settled on the grass, Firumel whispered to her, "I've never heard you speak like that before."

Mallory gave him an angry look, for she was still quite furious with him. "What? What did I say?"

" 'O good Fauns'?" Firumel snickered a little. "You're a darling, but you're no princess."

Mallory frowned and recalled her meeting with Aslan. "Funny, now that you mention it, I talked the same way when Aslan came to me. I haven't the foggiest why, but Aslan didn't explain anything about that."

Firumel looked quite thoughtful, but later, when Mallory decided to find out how was it possible that he had managed to stay so absolutely still, she discovered that he was already fast asleep.


	6. Mallory Uses A Sword

Author's note: Thanks bunches to all who reviewed, especially Jillie!

Chapter 6: Mallory Uses the Sword

The next morning dawned crisp, clear, but sunless. The band of Narnians, by some unspoken agreement, followed Firumel's lead to the House of Father Christmas.

Mallory learnt a great deal from the Narnians, especially the Faun Corcus, who was almost as talkative as Cheeveereep the Talking Mouse and was even so kind as to offer to pull the Chest for her. He told her about the cruel condition of which the White Witch had set upon Narnia.

"Imagine if you will, Daughter of Eve, winter all year long, for more than a hundred years! And no Christmas too!" Corcus shook his head sadly. " On top of all that, no Aslan! No Aslan is a bad, bad sign! For he is the one to right all wrongs and erect true justice and good. But he hasn't been seen in Narnia for a very long time now, and we were beginning to wonder if he really cared about us at all!

"However, there is one, really small catch. I'm talking about the Prophecy, of course: where two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve shall ascend the thrones of Narnia and defeat the Witch. But," he looked at her queerly, "_you_ are a Daughter of Eve, aren't you? Can this mean?"

Mallory felt her face flush. "Of course not! I came here alone. And I only ever had one elder brother, but he's away in London now (oh, you won't understand because London is in my world). So you must be mistaken!"

Corcus hung his head, terribly dismayed. "Oh, don't look so down, Mr. Corcus! Aslan's appeared to me, so I hope that'll lift your - "

"Aslan? In Archenland?" shouted Corcus so loudly that his voice echoed all through the merry band and the silent forest. He dropped the rope and fell to his knees, and so did the rest of the Narnians.

"Aslan? Where's Aslan? Is he really here? Where is he, I don't see him anywhere? Don't fib so, Corcus! Aslan is here? Take me to him!" the Narnians cried out together and wailed so pitifully that Mallory instantly regretted her words.

Firumel picked his way towards her and whispered in her ear. "Well done, Mallory. Well done."

"I didn't ask for it to happen!" she hissed back, angry and terrified at the same time. She tried to get them to stand. "Oh, do stand, Narnians! Please don't behave so! You're all making me feel ever so guilty!"

Finally, they did stop, one by one, (it was one of the Talking Foxes that got everybody to pull themselves together), they continued the journey. Firumel was not pleased to see that all of the Narnians had red eyes and puffy cheeks. "What would Father Christmas ever think of me?" he muttered to himself, as Mallory walked beside him, her Chest feeling heavier than ever until she decided that she must stop.

"What is it, Mallory? What is it?" Firumel asked breathlessly, causing the Narnians to rush over to her as well, pouring questions all over her: "Daughter of Eve, are you all right? Are you well? Clear away, I've just the remedy for faintness. Oh, goodness, what's happened?"

"Nothing, nothing!" she panted. She stood and gave the Chest a heavy tug. "Oh, the Chest has grown heavier! Whatever can this mean?"

"It means, that you are in the realm of Father Christmas," a kind but stringy voice said somewhere above them. They swung their heads up and gasped in pure shock (the Talking Mice squeaked shriller than a whistle).

A skinny, gangly creature with ears longer than a rabbit and hands as long and thin as sticks sat atop a branch on the oak tree. When he saw their frightened expressions, he grinned and jumped down smartly. "Hallo! Hallo! Don't be afraid, it's only me!"

All the Narnians (and Mallory) were even more frightened, but Firumel only laughed and pecked at the creature so that it squawked. "Why are you not away helping Father Christmas?"

"What are you?" Mallory finally blurted out.

The creature gave her a mortified look and Firumel rushed to say, "This is a Christmas-Elf, Narnians. An aide of Father Christmas."

The fright lifted and the Narnians were a merry gaggle again. Some of the Talking Mice rushed forwards and shook the Elf's hands vigorously, and Mallory could hear them saying, "How do you do? How do you do and how do you do?"

Corcus approached Mallory and whispered to her, "Do you think I should go and ask him for a wish?"

Mallory looked up at him, a little surprised. "Can you really do that?" Her eyes were wide with wonder.

"A Christmas-Elf can give you a wish if he hasn't done so for ten years!" Corcus replied excitably. "Oh, darn it! Look at how the Mice go! If I don't do it now, I shan't get the chance at all!"

"What kind of wishes can you ask for?" Mallory was eager now. She could ask for a never-ending supply of toys, sweets, and most importantly, no school! How simply smashing it would be! All holidays and no term!

By now a throng had surrounded the delighted Elf, who had never received so much attention before, and when Mallory rushed to join in, she remembered about the Chest and that she musn't leave it.

"Oh bother!" she stamped her foot impatiently, for she did so want that wish. But being so close to the Chest had established a sort of protectiveness and fondness for it. So, she contented herself by opening the Chest and pretending that she was looking into a Chest full of wonderful gifts.

But when she had opened it, she looked inside with the utmost surprise.

The weapons in the Chest gleamed and sparkled as if someone had polished it overnight ("That's impossible!" Mallory exclaimed to herself, because no one except herself had looked into the Chest and touched the wonderful weapons). They shone bright and clear, and as she touched the magnificent sword, a wonderful, courageous song awoke in her: a song of courage and splendour so that she felt compelled to unsheathe it.

All of a sudden there came a loud and terrified cry: "Fly! Fly! Fly from the Minotaurs!"

Mallory looked up and found that the Narnians were scattered, running for their lives. Firumel had somehow managed to climb a tree and got himself up to a safe perch, the Christmas-Elf on his back, safe, but pale. The Talking Mice tried to squeeze themselves behind a large rock while the Foxes bounded off into the woods, and were never seen again. The Fauns Corcus and Grumbus were trying their best to climb a tree.

Causing this chaos was a horde of grotesque-looking, shaggy-haired bulls that stood on their hind legs. They roared and huffed and stamped and ran about, their eyes wild with hunger for blood. They were much, much taller than a man, and to boot, they carried spiked clubs. Their howls were much like hooves, but a lot more frightening, and the Narnians all trembled in their hiding places. They were servants of the Witch and more fearsome than the Wolves themselves. How they managed to enter Archenland, no one did find out why, but Mallory did, but it was much, much later on another wonderful story that is right now, not too relevant.

Mallory was rooted to the spot. She was terrified, but she couldn't find the will to move. She knew she should run, but she couldn't. She simply stood there as the Minotaurs ran about, sniffing for enemy, and a few had unfortunately noticed her.

"Get up the tree, Daughter of Eve! Before it's too late! Oh do! Come on, I'll give you a hand!" shouted Corcus.

"Run, you fool! Run for your life!" Firumel cawed out, and even the Elf joined in, "Oh, do run! It's horrible to be eaten by Minotaurs! Many a Christmas-Elf have been innocent victims, and they grant you slow deaths. Fly! Fly!"

But Mallory could not move. The terror fully dawned on her when two Minotaurs roared at the sight of her and bounded in her direction. She remembered the sword in her hands and unsheathed it. She stuck it out in front of her with shut eyes and screamed, praying that she would not be hurt.

When she heard a painful howl, she opened her eyes and to her wonder, her sword had pierced a Minotaur right in his heart. Black blood was oozing slowly from the puncture hole. She drew the sword out with much effort and the beast dropped onto the ground. All the while, his comrade had watched all this with utter shock, and finally it howled with rage and lunged for her.

Mallory ducked it just in time, and (she didn't know how she had managed it) she stood and drove her sword into its back, killing it instantly. By now, all the monsters had seen her with the sword and their rage grew. They rushed in her direction, determined to kill, but Mallory was quicker, given her size, and with a deftness that she had never known before with such a great, sharp blade, she managed to slay a great number of them. The older, wiser ones chose to run, and run they did, their cries ringing out through the forest and shaking the living daylights of other animals.

The Narnians came out from their hiding-places but they didn't cheer or even congratulate and thank her. In fact, they went nowhere near her. The Talking Mice scuttled well clear from her, and even the Fauns were a little hesitant when their eyes met hers.

Mallory was a little shaken from all the murders that she had done, but she still made an effort to wipe the blade clean on the grass.

Only Firumel came forwards. He picked his way through the Narnians and spoke to Mallory in a grave voice, "How did you do it?"

Still feeling numb, she replied hollowly, "I – I don't know." Then, she added, "Please leave me alone. I really had no idea how I - " she whimpered as she looked at the dead pile of Minotaurs, " – how I killed them."

Firumel seemed to purse his beak together just like a grown-up who feels sure that you are lying. But he had to take her word. He told the Narnians to pull themselves together and rest a while before they continued the journey to the House of Father Christmas. They obeyed only too gladly. The fright the Minotaurs caused had wearied them.

All except Cheeveereep. He was afraid of Mallory, who was now sitting on the grass, looking miserable and confused, the naked sword in her hands. He lingered about for a while, wondering and wondering and trying to decide, until Mallory spoke in a very un-Mallory-like way: "What troubles your heart, O Brave Mouse of Narnia?"

Cheeveereep was so surprised that he gave a little cheep but he made his way towards her, for her voice had the air of both a majestic warrior and a beautiful maiden whose beauty outshone the stars. It made him feel brave and tall and mighty. He reached her side and bowed. "I come, fair lady."

"O Brave Mouse, empty your distress upon my willing ears, for I sense it, and it will be wholly wise to do it."

Cheeveereep hesitated, but he spoke anyway, "Well, you see, it's just this, fair lady. I proclaim myself as brave and fearless, but just a moment ago when the Minotaurs attacked, I ran for my life, just like any other Mouse. I left you alone to deal with them when my duty was to protect you, or aid you at least. But I – I - "

"O Brave Heart," she replied and smiled a very gracious smile at him. "Do not be troubled so. There is a time for courage, and there is a time to flee, but right now, what is done is done. I have slain the foul Beasts. There is no more need for worry. Sleep, Brave Heart, sleep a dreamless and full dream."

And Cheeveereep was contented and went to sleep.

Mallory awoke from her reverie and had a faint memory of the strange words that she had spoken to the Mouse. She threw the sword, in all its bareness, into the Chest and shuddered, feeling more confused than ever.


	7. At the Silver Tree and Onwards

Author's note: Hiya all! Thanks for the glowing reviews! To leezh: I suppose there are other Talking Mice scattered around Narnia too . . . thanks for reminding me though! I admit that I've forgotten about that, how silly and stupid of me! But these Talking Mice are one of a kind ;P Thanks lots to Jillie: I'm glad you loved it! And mis.mira: thanks for calling this little fic 'smashing'! I really owe you guys!

I'd like to make one correction too: in the second chapter I wrote that Mallory threw the rope into the Chest, but in the third chapter I wrote that the rope was still on her shoulder. So the correction is this: the rope was still on Mallory's shoulder right until Aslan vanished. Sorry about that!

Chapter 7: At the Silver Tree and Onwards

By morning the next day, the tension that had struck the Narnians lifted. They congratulated Mallory and praised her skill with the sword, leaving Mallory to blush and shake her head and said, "No, no, I don't know how I did it, really. It was all just an instinct." But she was really pleased that they were all on talking terms now. And even better news was that the Chest felt lighter now.

By afternoon, they were all a happy, merry band again, including Firumel, who had crept up to her side suddenly and nudged her gently, whispering humbly: "I'm awfully sorry for doubting you. Are we friends again?"

Mallory was so glad that she let go of the Chest and threw her arms around his gleaming, silver neck. "Of course, Firumel! You'll always be my friend!"

The day could not have gotten any better for Mallory and the Narnians when she suddenly noticed that she had been seeing nothing but pine trees for miles and miles.

"How queer!" she exclaimed. "There's nothing but pine trees here!"

"That's because," shouted the beaming Christmas-Elf, whose name was Hogswell. "We're close to the House of Father Christmas! Oh, can you hear the sound of toys a-making? Can you smell the lovely scent of cinnamon and caramel? Oooh, oooh, and the sound of bells too! Can you all hear the lovely tinkling?"

Indeed they could, and they were so happy that they jumped and danced with joy. The Fauns held hands with each other and pranced about in circles. Cheeveereep gave a shrill squeal of joy and grasped another Mouse for him to hug. Firumel's eyes glistened and his magnificent, grey chest beamed with joy. The joy of the Narnians affected Mallory so much that soon she had let go of the Chest and clapped and danced with the Fauns and the Mice, laughing and crying as she did, for such was her joy.

Eventually they came to the brightest and most beautiful tree they had ever laid their eyes upon, and it made them all stop and gaze in wonder.

It was a pine tree, but it was much, much taller than a Giant. Its needles were coated in lovely silver, bright, but not too bright, so that they looked like real needles, but so much more kindly and alive too. Its pine-cones were much larger than what was normal, and they peeked out among the silver needles and shone in all their golden glory. At the very top of the tree was a silver arch and a dainty gold bell sat underneath the arch.

"Behold, my friends!" Hogswell the Christmas-Elf opened his arms proudly, "The Silver Tree of Father Christmas!"

The Narnians clapped and whooped with happiness, even Mallory, who wished that she could pick one of the pretty pine-cones. When she asked the Christmas-Elf whether she could do so, he nodded his head. "Why, of course you may! But one only, you mind? The Tree can tell the ones who've taken and those who haven't. And mind you choose the best because this is the only chance of picking one!"

Mallory looked up at Firumel excitedly. "Come let's, Firumel!"

Firumel shook his head. "No, Mallory. You go, I'll watch your Chest for you."

So Mallory ran towards the Tree and skirted the edges for a nice pine-cone. The Faun Corcus joined her in the search, and very soon he found one and showed it to Mallory. "Look, Daughter of Eve! Isn't it the most darling one you've ever seen?" And Mallory said yes, it was, and he danced for joy and tucked it away in its pocket.

As fate would have it, Cheeveereep the Mouse wanted one too, but he (even though a Talking Mouse of Narnia) was not tall enough to even pluck at a silver needle. He turned away miserably from the tree and was stopped by Mallory. "Hold there, Cheeveereep! Why the sad face?"

"I do so want one of the cones," he said to her, a fat tear ran down his cheek. "But I can't reach up to them. Such is the sad fate of a Mouse!"

"Oh, you can always ask, you know!" Mallory immediately reached up and picked a particularly fat and bright one. She handed it to the surprised Mouse. "Here you go, Cheeveereep! And do cheer up!"

"But – but Daughter of Eve!" he gasped. "You've wasted your only pick!"

Mallory stared at the Mouse for a moment and realised that he was right. "Oh dear! Oh dear! I suppose you're right! But there now, it's yours. I picked it for you."

"I can't! I can't!" If possible, Cheeveereep looked even more miserable than ever and Mallory couldn't bear it. She pushed the cone into his paw and drew her hands back quickly. "There, keep it! It belongs to you now!"

Cheeveereep smiled weakly at last and nodded. "Thank you! I've always wanted one of these! I will always remember your good will, Daughter of Eve, and I will serve you with great loyalty and my generation will continue my tradition until we vanish completely from the face of Narnia!"

Mallory blushed. "Don't say such – er, heavy things."

"But I will, you see I will!" Cheeveereep beamed and scuttled off to share his cone with the other Talking Mice.

Mallory felt utterly wretched, but a glimmer of gladness surfaced amid all the despair. She had done a good deed, yes, and she had also missed a golden opportunity to possess a valuable thing that was not likely to be found in her world. Then the glimmer of gladness faded and the tears came to her eyes.

"Now, now, Daughter of Eve!" said a thin, wheezy voice beside her. Mallory turned around and saw Hogswell, the Christmas-Elf, holding out a particularly big and stocky silver-gold pine cone. She gasped in pure delight. It was the prettiest cone she ever saw, prettier than the decorated ones that were sold in department stores in London.

"What do you think of this, Daughter of Eve?" Hogswell beamed.

"It's – it's magnificent! I should very much like to hang this on my Christmas tree. Oh, how bright it is!"

"I'm sure that you'll like it! It's been touched by Elf-magic, that's why! I saw how you picked one for the Mouse, and frankly I was touched! So, as a reward, you get an even bigger cone! A gift from Hogswell the Elf!" At that he bowed low.

Mallory couldn't believe her ears. "I could really have it?"

Hogswell nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes! Take it! A Christmas-Elf can pluck as many pine-cones as he wishes! And, because this is a _very_ special cone (touched by Elf-magic at that!) it will never wither and it will bring you good luck! Yes, good luck! But the luck only works until you plant the cone. The cone will grow into a silver pine tree as beautiful as this but not so tall, of course, but it's silver and golden rays will protect your dwelling from harm. Let it grow long enough and it won't be so easily cut down! Keep it, Daughter of Eve, before somebody else sees it and demands another one too!"

Mallory pocketed the precious cone carefully in her vest-pocket and felt thrilled to bits. The cone seemed to throb ever so gently with life and magic.

"Thank you, Hogswell! How wonderful of you!" she leaned and gave him a gentle peck. Hogswell blushed, muttered something and scampered off, much to her amusement.

Firumel ruffled his feathers and gave a loud cry that rattled everyone's cheerful bones. "Let's move on! To the House of Father Christmas!"

"Aye! Aye!" exclaimed the Narnians, and everyone said a heartfelt goodbye to the Silver Tree of Father Christmas and continued the pleasant journey.

From the Silver Tree, they descended down a gentle, grassy slope into a wide, green but cold valley littered here and there with clusters of unusually tall and sweet-smelling pine trees. The sharply-creviced mountains loomed tall and fearsome beyond the pine trees, making Mallory feel afraid of it for the first time.

At the foot of the mountain in a cosy-looking glade, was a large smokehouse. Merry white smoke wisped out through a chimney poking out through a roof of brick red. Its walls were light, cream brown and the windows open and a little crude. Outside the house was a sprawling but messy lawn scattered with tools, piles of presents, brightly-coloured wrapping papers and boxes, bits of wood and metal and occasionally a reindeer or two munching at the grass.

They were greeted warmly by Christmas-Elves hard at work in the lawn. Hogswell waved and smiled at the other Elves, who whispered to him things like, "Where have you been?" and "Moosey needs a good scrubbing!" and "Father Christmas is getting ready for something!"

Hogswell led the Narnians to a humble wooden door. A fine, polished brass knocker with the head of a roaring lion sat on the door. He turned to Mallory and bowed a little. "After you, Daughter of Eve!"

Mallory looked at him excitably. "Oh, can I really?" She turned to Firumel. "What about you? You've known him for ages!"

Firumel smiled a little, but his wing nudged her. "No, Daughter of Eve before Talking Animals."

Mallory turned to the Fauns, Corcus and Grumbus, who shook their heads. "Firumel's right. Daughter of Eve before Narnians!" When she asked the Talking Mice, they threatened to bite her ankle. With a hearty laugh that was shared throughout the band, she stepped forwards and rapped the brass handle three times on the door.

A few minutes ticked by, making everyone feel restless. Firumel fidgeted and flexed his wings. Hogswell muttered about tending to Moosey and he trotted away. Cheeveereep jumped a little. A bitter and cold wind blew about them and bit at their senses. Mallory had to stand close to Firumel for the warmth of his body.

Then there came the sound of quick but heavy footsteps and the door opened.

A large, smiling old man with the brightest green eyes Mallory had ever seen appeared. He wore a heavy coat of bearskin and smart, black boots. His huge belly was barely covered by the bearskin coat. The soft tumble of white beard that hung from his chin to his tummy bulge gave him away.

"Hallo, Visitors! Welcome to the House of Father Christmas! How are you, little Daughter of Eve?" His lean, thick fingers grasped Mallory's hands, since she was at the very front of the party. She broke into a disbelieving smile. She was actually shaking hands with Father Christmas!

"I – I'm fine!" she gasped out, and then, remembering her manners, she added, "Thank you very much! And how are you?"

He laughed. His laugh was like a loud boom and was quite frightening, but because it was filled with good cheer, it made everyone laugh too instead backing away.

"I'm well, I'm well! And what is your name, and you, and you, and you, and you, and you?" He pointed at every single one of the Narnians. When his eyes stopped at Firumel, he laughed again. "My good Eagle! It's been an age!"

Firumel blushed a little, then he bowed. "So it has, good Father! Never have I felt more joy and comfort in seeing you once more!"

Father Christmas patted Firumel on the head gently with a merry laugh and turned towards the Narnians with such agility so out of place for a big, bumbling man like him.

"Now, now! I'd like to know your names!"

The Talking Mice, led by Cheeveereep, introduced themselves first, and when they were done, Father Christmas ho-hoed and gave each and every Mouse a hearty pat on the head. He was more solemn with the Fauns. He asked them for news about Narnia and the White Witch, whether there was any sign of her power weakening, and most importantly, was Aslan anywhere to be seen?

At this point, Mallory felt that she should interrupt. "Please, Father Christmas, I don't mean to jolly rude like this. But I've seen him. That's why I've come. He's got a mission for me."

Father Christmas stopped abruptly and looked at her, his green eyes wide and doubtful. She was afraid that he might suddenly swoop on her and shake her, maybe even explode in anger. Instead, he broke into a generous, fatherly smile.

"How rude of me, letting my guests stay outside in the cold like this! Come! Come! You are all just in time for tea! And you, Daughter of Eve," he said quietly to her, a sparkle in his eyes, "I should like to hear all that my royal brother, Aslan, has said to you. Let me carry that Chest for you!"


	8. In the House of Father Christmas

Chapter 8: In the House of Father Christmas

Father Christmas led them into a small, but lavishly decorated room that had a warm fire crackling in the fireplace. The room was littered with nicely wrapped gifts. A dark chest that looked similar to Mallory's sat in a corner of the room, lit overhead by an ancient-looking sconce. In that room was a small, round table with cosy armchairs arranged all around it, and the number of chairs was just right for all of them.

Awaiting them on the table was the most glorious tea that you could ever dream of. There was every type of bread, cake, muffins, butter, cream, pancakes, toast, jars of honey and caramel, shortbread, biscuits and even toffees that warmed your whole body when you sucked it, all accompanied by delicious mugs of hot chocolate.

When the food was cleared off the table and everybody felt quite drowsy after such a pleasantly heavy and delicious meal (except for Father Christmas), the good man coaxed the Narnians and Firumel to leave the room so that he could speak to Mallory alone. When all this was done and the room was empty except for Mallory and Father Christmas, she became awake at once, for his face was very solemn, and she remembered what he had said to her.

So she recounted all that Aslan had said to her, every single detail and movement. For good measure, she told him too of how she had entered Narnia and the things that she found in the Enchanted Chest. Father Christmas listened patiently, nodding at the right places, but never asking any questions.

When she was done, Father Christmas sat up straight in his armchair and looked at her Chest, and said softly, "So it's true."

Mallory was instantly curious. "What's that?"

He looked at her, but his eyes were no longer shining. It was deep now, and full of sorrow but joy as well. She had never expected a wonderful figure like Father Christmas can be so sad and jolly at the same time.

Just like Aslan, thought Mallory. '_I should like to hear all that my royal brother Aslan said . . .'_

"Is Aslan really your brother?" she blurted out.

His brows lifted a bit, then he broke into a smile. "Not many people know this, and I don't like it to be known too, but yes, Aslan is my brother. We are the Royal Children of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea, along with our sisters. But Aslan, he was the eldest and was always the greatest among all of us. He was brave, he was wise, he was skilled, and he was a loving brother."

At that, Father Christmas nodded happily, as if recalling a pleasant memory.

"There were four of us, the Royal Children: Aslan, the eldest, was known as Prince Aslan the Great; Arundel, the second eldest and the most patient and gentle, was known as Princess Arundel the Gracious; me, Algaurs, was third and I was known as Prince Algaurs the Selfless; last of all was Alvarya, the most beautiful and willful among all of us, and she was known as Princess Alvarya the Brave.

"When we were children, we were very close and shared almost everything together. Our father the Emperor always advised us never to fight and be divided, and we abided by that golden advice every day without fail. But of course as we grew up, we became different; especially Alvarya. She loved weapons and hawking and adventures that a princess of her pedigree should not be loving, and it displeased our father greatly. But she was Aslan's favourite sibling, Arundel and I could always tell. He stood up for her every time she was caught trying to ride a horse or duel with the High Commander of the Royal Army. And Alvarya respected him the most. She would bully me, yes, and sometimes Arundel, but she never bullies Aslan. Aslan liked to give piggyback rides to Alvarya," Father Christmas laughed sadly, "You can see them piggy-riding all around the palace grounds every evening.

"One day, our father decided that we had come of good age. He granted each of us a wish to become whatever we wanted. Aslan asked for a wide land for him to create and rule in the form of a magnificent Lion, so he became that Lion that we all revere. Arundel wished to found a city that possessed innumerable wealth, undefeatable army and learned people. So she was given one in another world, and that city was named Charn. Me, Algaurs, wished only to become a kind, fatherly person that had no end of gifts to give, so I became Father Christmas and my good father gave Christmas to me as a day in honour of my generosity.

"Alvarya, on the other hand, asked for never-ending adventures. That last wish angered our father. He banished her out of our country, but good, honourable Aslan took her under his wing, and together they founded Narnia, Archenland and the lands that make up the rest of this world." He fell silent. Mallory wanted him to continue. She wanted to know what became of Princess Alvarya, the owner of the Enchanted Chest.

At length he spoke, "This Chest of yours belonged to her."

Mallory was taken aback, but she answered, "Yes, it does."

He threw her a sharp, curious look. "How did you know?"

Mallory blinked. What was he up to? "I – I read it off the Chest. There were some letters carved on it."

Father Christmas remained silent, his eyes still heavy on her. Then he spoke, "Those are the Royal Runes, known only to the Royal Family. There is no way you could have known, unless you are a member of the Royal Family, which you are not."

That made Mallory feel uneasy, but she felt something tugging at the back of her mind. She struggled with it for a while before managing to get it out: "Aslan called me 'Daughter of Kings' when he addressed me."

Father Christmas drew a sharp breath. Mallory didn't dare look at him. Somehow, she felt as if she had said the wrong thing, but why should it be wrong? She didn't make it up. Aslan _did_ say that to her.

"It can't be," said Father Christmas after a long silence, "That was Aslan's nickname for Alvarya. He would call her that whenever he wanted her to do something for him."

Now Mallory really wanted to run away from the room. She wanted to run and run and put as much distance between her and Archenland as possible. She would do anything to get away from this place: away from an Enchanted Chest, magical lands, Father Christmases, talking animals and, oh, just about everything! She wished bitterly that she had never undertook Aslan's task, what more setting foot in this land.

Father Christmas sensed her discomfort and placed a warm hand and smile on her shoulder. "I might have been wrong, Daughter of Eve. After all, it was such a long time ago. Now, about helping me preparing the gifts, I think Aslan means for me to take those weapons from your Chest."

Mallory looked up and he brushed a small tear away from her eye. She managed a small smile and sniffed. She didn't mean all that she was thinking, after all, she realised.

She stood, and so did Father Christmas, and together they opened her Chest.

"Choose, Daughter of Eve," he said simply.

Mallory gave him a funny smile. "Why, you choose. You're Father Christmas."

He laughed. "Hoho! So I am! But right now this is your Chest and you pick out the ones that you feel you can part with."

"Well, to be honest, I'd be really sorry to part with each one," she said, and truly she did. Everything in the Chest seemed especially dear to her now. But she bent over and pulled a golden hilt out. Upon seeing the full length of it, she quickly dropped it back into the Chest. She was sure that it was very rude to give someone a used gift, what more a sword that she had used to kill.

"Why, Daughter of Eve?" he exclaimed. "Why do you put it back? That is a fine sword."

"I – er, well, I used it to, urm, kill some Minotaurs earlier on," she said uncomfortably, fidgeting as she did.

"All the better then, isn't it? The sword will be better accustomed to killing," Father Christmas said merrily. Although it was an odd statement that she didn't fully understand, it made Mallory a good deal happier.

Next, she picked the wonderful bow and its quiver full of slender arrows, the shield with the rampant lion on it, the slim dagger, and the splendid horn. He hummed cheerfully as she did so, and with every selection, Mallory felt happier. At least, it would do the important people some good.

After he was done, he shut the Chest and asked Mallory to follow him into his study, for he had one more present to select, and he would like her opinion. Mallory gave a look at the Chest, suddenly feeling sorry for it, and trotted after Father Christmas's wide strides into a dingy cabin at the back of the House.

There were shelves and shelves in the cabin, all stacked with dusty boxes of all sorts of sizes and shapes. He brought down a few boxes and laid them on the floor.

For a moment, Mallory just stood looking at them, puzzled, at what were in them. Then Father Christmas gave her a nudge. "Open them," he whispered.

Opened them she did, and these were what she found: in the first box there was a beautifully cut diamond-shaped phial, glowing with starlight; the second box held a compass of tarnished but polished gold, the numbers and its needle gold and deliriously pleasing to the eye; in the third and largest box Mallory found a flute of delicate ivory; and in the fourth box was a small, glass bottle with fire-red liquid in it.

She looked at Father Christmas for information. He smiled and explained, "This phial here contains the light and radiance of the stars that never dies out, and its phial is made of diamond that will never break or scratch. This compass does not need to be adjusted, and it will show you the way to the place of your heart's desire. And this flute here, can tame the fiercest of beasts, and all music that comes from it is pure joy to the ears. Last, but not least, is the cordial that is made of the juice of the fire-flowers of the sun. One drop heals any wound, no matter big or small. Choose, Daughter of Eve."

Mallory frowned as she weighed each object, its uses and disadvantages. She knew that this gift was for a very special and important person, so she had to be careful, sure and correct.

After some time, she bent and picked up the dainty bottle of cordial. "I like this one."


	9. A Wish for Firumel

Chapter 9: A Wish for Firumel

Mallory, Firumel and the Narnians spent the night in Father Christmas's House, with each of them having a cosy room all to themselves and of which Mallory was properly delighted, for she had had to share her room with her brother in London.

She was about to blow out the candle and turn in for the day (it had been a very exhausting one for she had been running about the House running small errands for the Christmas-Elves but which she didn't mind at all because it was great fun helping to make toys and clocks and letterboxes) when there was a knock at her door. She almost dropped her candle-holder in surprise.

"Do come in!"

The door opened and in came Hogswell the Christmas-Elf. "Can I get you anything, Daughter of Eve?"

Mallory laughed. "No, I'm quite all right. But really, we're friends now, so do call me Mallory."

Hogswell laughed as well. "All right then. Are you sure you don't need anything more? Is your bed warm enough? What about the fire? Or do you want a tin of crackers in case you can't sleep?"

"No, no, Hogswell. I don't need anything more."

"Right," he turned to leave, but suddenly he squealed and whirled around. "By Aslan! I almost forgot! Daughter of – I mean, Mallory, Father Christmas wishes me to tell you that he will be setting off for Narnia the very next morning as he is sure that the Witch's spell is weakening."

"Will he?" exclaimed Mallory, her eyes glittering with excitement. "That's wonderful! What time must I be up tomorrow?"

"As soon as the dawn breaks. Father Christmas wants to reach the two Sons of Adam and the two Daughters of Eve as soon as possible."

"Two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve?" repeated Mallory, for the image of the two boys and two girls that had come into her mind several days ago flashed through her mind again.

"Why, yes! They're the ones who will fulfil the Prophecy and break the Witch's spell, don't you know?"

"Of course I do," said Mallory. "So they're there already, in Narnia?"

"Father Christmas suspects so," Hogswell nodded.

"Am I to go alone?"

"Probably, because I'm sure that with all those presents to give out, there'll only be room left for you in his sleigh."

"I'd like Firumel to come with me," said Mallory miserably, for she had grown very fond of the good Eagle and she was terribly indebted to him too for leading her here. It would be a pity to leave him now, not when there was so much more to do.

"Well, if he could _fly_," said Hogswell slowly, "he might be able to go because he wouldn't need to take up any space in the sleigh. Well then, I am very tired: it's been a long day. So is there anything else that you need?"

Mallory opened her mouth to say 'goodnight', but she stopped just in time. "Say, Hogswell, have you fulfilled a wish in the past ten years?"

The Christmas-Elf frowned as he thought. "No, I don't think I have, why? Do you want a wish made?"

Mallory broke into a wide smile. "As a matter of fact, yes, I do."

* * *

Mallory was awaken by a rough shake of her shoulders the next morning.

"Oh! Oh! Stop it!" she flung her hand to slap whatever it was that was disturbing her sleep. Her palm made contact with a neck of smooth and lovely feathers and she heard a clicking of a beak and a furious ruffling.

She sat up at once. "Firumel!" She looked out the window and remembered. "Narnia!"

"Narnia indeed!" he echoed, but there was a treble of excitement in his voice. "Oh, oh, Mallory, the most wonderful thing has happened to me!"

Mallory leaned forward, thrilled. She remembered the wish she had made with Hogswell. Could it be true? Had it come true already? She found herself positively thrilled to bits. "What is it, Firumel? Oh, what, what, what is it?"

The Eagle clicked its beak rapidly and said slowly, "I – CAN – FLY!"

There was a still moment as Mallory came to slow realisation that it was true. Her – wish – was - fulfilled.

"I don't believe it!"

"So did I at first!" said Firumel. He flapped his wings happily and said, "But this morning, you know us Eagles, we like to sleep in high places, so I was sleeping in a loft in the barn, and, I was dreaming that I could fly, you know, and I rolled over the edge of my nest, by accident of course, and – and – my wings just opened automatically when I was falling, and – and, oh, _and_, I was flying!"

"Good for you!" exclaimed Mallory. "Really; I'm so happy for you! You can fly!"

"Why, thank you, Mallory! Just think about it, I can fly now! The Talking Animals in Stormness Head won't be able to laugh at me anymore. Ho-ho, they can't! And I can fly into Narnia and have a look at the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve! Oooh, how exciting!"

"You're coming with us?"

"Of course I am! Father Christmas said I could, because I could fly now and all," Firumel beamed, "This is the happiest day of my life! Really it is! I almost don't believe it! I can fly! I can FLY!"

To Firumel's surprise and to her own as well, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Oh, Firumel! Am I glad that you'll be coming with us!"

Firumel turned slightly pink, but he managed to croak out, "Yes, yes, I am glad too."

* * *

After a generous and filling breakfast with her Narnian comrades, Mallory and Firumel bid goodbye to them and went down to the stables where Father Christmas was adjusting the bells on the harness of the reindeers and the Christmas-Elves were putting sacks of presents onto the sleigh. He wore a striking red coat that fastened around his bulging waist with a large, silver belt. His curly beard fell in soft foams all the way down to the buckle of the belt.

Mallory gasped. "Reindeers!"

Father Christmas laughed heartily. "Yes, Mallory, reindeers!"

Mallory ran towards the front-most one and stood on tiptoes and stroked its nose as gently as possible so that it would not buck and kick her squarely on her chest. The reindeer had kind, hazel eyes that were fixed upon hers as soon as she touched it, and for a moment, Mallory just stood there, holding her breath, waiting to see what it was going to do to her.

She was startled by a loud chuckle from Father Christmas. He left his post and made his way towards her. "Don't be afraid, Mallory. It's a good reindeer, aren't you, Hazel?" He patted the reindeer's head and it responded by touching its nose with Father Christmas's bulging stomach. Father Christmas laughed again and said to Mallory, "Go on, Mallory! Stroke it!"

And Mallory did. Soon, she found herself liking the touch of soft reindeer fur very much and almost wished she could go on stroking it forever. Father Christmas watched her caress the reindeer's nose with misty eyes. Mallory noticed it and withdrew her hand from Hazel.

"What's the matter, Father Christmas?"

He looked at her with a sad smile on his face for a moment, and his smile was so sorrowful that it made her sad too.

Then he took her small hands in his big ones and squeezed it gently. "Mallory, I have something very important and shocking, I suppose, to tell you, even though I'm not supposed to tell you now, but I think Aslan wouldn't mind."

Mallory frowned. "What is it?"

Father Christmas smiled warmly. "Let's walk a bit, shall we? What I'm about to tell you is meant only for your ears."


	10. Off to Narnia

Chapter 10: Off to Narnia

Mallory and Father Christmas walked away from the stables and over towards a great, big willow tree that Mallory hadn't noticed before this. It was some time before Mallory realised that this was the only willow tree in the valley.

At the foot of the willow tree its roots spread out so thickly and so high that it made a nice ledge to sit on. Father Christmas pushed its curtain of drooping leaves apart and said to Mallory, "Sit, Mallory."

She sat on the roots and he dropped heavily onto the empty space beside her.

He didn't say anything to her at all for the next few minutes. Mallory wondered what on earth he had wanted to say to her, and why it was so important and private.

Finally, he said, "Do you remember this willow tree, Mallory?"

That shocked her properly, but she gave a thought about it anyway. Willow tree? Willow tree? She shook her head. "No, Father Christmas. Why?"

He smiled and laughed softly. "How can you not? You planted this tree yourself, don't you remember?"

Mallory's mouth fell open. "But – but I haven't. You must be mistaken. I couldn't have – have been here before."

"Yes, you did," he said in gentle firmness. He cast his pensive blue eyes upon hers. "You were especially fond of willow trees, and you couldn't stand my insisting on having only pine trees in my valley, so you threatened to plant this willow tree by the well. We had a row over it, because it was plain silly of you to plant a tree by a well, and I didn't like willow trees anyway. But Aslan said you could if you promised not to plant it near the well, so you chose this spot. I was so angry about it I didn't speak to you for days. If Arundel was the one who had wanted to plant this willow tree, Aslan would have said no, but he said yes to you. Do you know why? Because he loved you most."

Mallory was puzzled and stupefied. "What – what do you mean, Father Christmas? I'm not – I – I couldn't have - "

He continued speaking as if he hadn't heard her. "Then you and Aslan returned to Narnia to aid King Frank and Queen Helen establish order. The wicked woman who claimed herself Queen of Narnia, Jadis her name was, had created creatures of her own in her House far in the north of Narnia and she had led an army of them against Narnia. You and Aslan went to their rescue. Have you really forgotten? You led the creatures of Narnia yourself. In a short space of time you taught them how to wield weapons. You won. You were always a great warrior and leader in war. And I suppose the victory came because while the Tree of Protection still stood, Narnia is protected from danger and blemish."

Slowly, things began to make the smallest sense to her, but she didn't dare to say it aloud.

"But you made a mistake. You did not kill the wicked Witch. You would have, but Aslan forbade you to. He was a great believer in diplomacy, he was. And he was the only person you would listen to. You held the Witch captive even though you would dearly like to kill her, but you were obedient to Aslan. And what a mistake it was. You – you did something horrible, I didn't know exactly what it was, and Aslan had no choice but to punish you. He turned you out of Narnia, out of Archenland, out of this world, but - "

" – here I am," Mallory finished quietly. Father Christmas looked at her, a little surprised, but to her dismay, he nodded slowly. "Yes."

"I'm – I'm her then, aren't I?"

He nodded again. "Yes."

Mallory found it difficult to believe it, but strangely it made sense. It explained how the Chest came into her possession; how she was able to read the runes carved on it; why she spoke strangely at times; and why she felt so familiar yet so distant to Father Christmas and Aslan himself.

"You are her, Mallory. Her very image."

* * *

"You're quiet, Mallory."

Mallory looked up at Firumel in surprise. She was in the sleigh now, sitting beside Father Christmas, and she was silent because she was thinking about what Father Christmas had just told her.

Firumel clicked his beak. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

Mallory shook her head. "No. I'm all right."

He cocked its head. "Are you sure? You look as if someone had beaten the wind out of you."

Mallory shook her head again and said firmly, "I'm fine. Really."

Father Christmas took a deep breath and announced cheerily. "This is it, my good Christmas-Elves! Thank you for you help! I am off now: off to Narnia!" At the end of his words, the reindeers suddenly moved and Mallory jerked forward as the sleigh went into motion. Firumel gave a sharp cry and launched itself into the air.

The first part of the journey was bumpy and rocky and slow because sleighs were meant to be driven over snow. The reindeers picked the way delicately through the narrow pass of Mount Pire that led into Narnia, and after a few hours, they were actually in Narnia itself.

Mallory had certainly seen snow before, but still, it was quite something to see everything completely covered in pure, white snow. The trees were blanketed from top to bottom in snow, and there was not a patch of grass to be seen in the ground. It was a perfect winter wonderland.

And perfectly cold as well. Mallory found herself shivering in the cold and Father Christmas halted the reindeers. He wrapped a thick fur blanket over Mallory and smiled at her. "You won't be needing this later though. Just for the meanwhile."

After the short break, they resumed the journey at full speed. The sleigh slid smoothly over the frozen ground, sometimes narrowly dodging trees. But the reindeers of Father Christmas were clever and knew how to navigate their way even through the trickiest spots.

Suddenly, Firumel swooped down from the air and waved his wings frantically at Father Christmas. He pulled on the reins at once and said, "What is it, Firumel?"

"I saw them!" said Firumel excitably as he landed beside their sleigh. "I saw the humans! But how odd, there are two Daughters of Eve but only one Son of Adam."

"How odd indeed," echoed Father Christmas, "but they _are_ still the children mentioned in the Prophecy, nevertheless. Perhaps one of them has betrayed them. But Aslan will straighten it all out, don't you worry. Where are they?"

"Just a mile or two away," said Firumel. "They have come with the Beavers. They will be coming into the Shuddering Woods in about an hour or so."

"Very well! Very well!" Father Christmas turned to Mallory. "The spell has broken. You have helped me enter Narnia. Now, it is time for you to leave me, for you have yet another task to carry out for Aslan, have you not?"

Mallory felt very wretched. "You're right, and I _should_ be going now, because I have to go all the way to Stormness Head, which I'm sure is a dreadful long way off, and lead them to the Stone Table at that. But I do so want to see you giving the presents away. I want to see what kind of people they are, and which present is given to whom."

Father Christmas smiled softly. "But if Aslan says 'Haste!', then he means it, and so he shall have it! You remember what I told you before this? I am sure that you do not wish to disappoint him again. He has placed a great deal of hope, and love, in you."

Mallory sighed sadly, but she understood and accepted it and climbed out of the sleigh. Firumel clicked his beak and said, "Well, it's a terribly good thing I can fly now. We can get to Stormness Head in no time at all. So cheer up, Mallory. Do cheer up."

Mallory laughed a little and said, "I know, Firumel. Shall I climb onto your back?"

Firumel said yes, she may, and so she did, with much difficulty because of her difficult English skirts, so much so that she wished that she was a boy instead. Father Christmas chuckled as he saw this, and with no warning at all, he cracked his whip and said, "Goodbye! And Merry Christmas to both of you!" Before either Firumel or Mallory could blink, the sleigh had sped off in a merry jingle of bells.

After a few seconds of astonishment, Firumel finally managed to laugh. "And a Merry Christmas to you too! Hold on tight, Mallory! Oooh, I'm going to launch now, I truly am! Narnia! Narnia!"

Mallory was not prepared at all for the powerful thrust that propelled both of them into the air. The suddenness of it and the frightening lurch turned her stomach inside out and she screamed and buried her face into his soft, velvety neck. She felt the cold, sharp air rush past her, and then Firumel said, "It's all right, Mallory! It's all right! Oh, what a coward you are! Bosh!"

The word 'coward' made her look up at once, not caring whether she was ten or ten thousand miles in the air. "I am not!"

"You are!" Firumel continued with glee.

Mallory laughed as the wind whipped and stung her face. "No! Stop it, Firumel!"

Firumel cackled. "Hold on now, Mallory, I feel a little turbulence in the air. Hang it all, there's Stormness Head! As moody as ever! Oh, we're going down now, Mallory! We're going doooowwwww - "

Mallory couldn't help but scream and clutch at his neck as the Eagle suddenly swooped downwards at what Mallory was sure was breakneck speed. It was even more terrifying than the upwards flight. They were going so fast that Mallory was sure that they would end up crashing into nothing but slabs of stone. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for a safe landing.


	11. The Great Hurry

Author's note: Thanks for the great reviews! On with the story!

Disclaimer: Everyone here, except Mallory, Firumel and perhaps Snowmane, is owned by the amazing C. S. Lewis. Hip hip hurrah!

Chapter 11: The Great Hurry

Bit by bit, she could feel growing warmth. She noticed that they were going slower too. She opened her eyes and saw that Firumel was now skirting the edge of the mountains. He circled a bit over an open glade in the middle of a thick forest and landed there.

Mallory at first couldn't move her legs. Her joints seemed to have frozen.

"You can get off now, Mallory," muttered Firumel.

She sighed tiredly and rubbed her eyes. "Just hang on for a minute. I'm stiff to the bone."

"Who goes there in the glade?" a low, purring voice called out to them, loud but soft and velvety. Mallory's heart leapt. Aslan!

"It is I, Firumel!"

A stalking shadow crept towards them from the trees but halted by an oak tree. Firumel shook Mallory off and rose to his full height. "It is I, Lord Marvyr and Lord Gaurung: Firumel the Flightless!" He didn't exactly like the name 'Flightless', but it was the name the Talking Animals of Stormness Head had for him, so he was forced to use it.

The shadow finally came out into the glade. Mallory was terribly disappointed to find that it was not Aslan but a Leopard. But it was the biggest and most terrible Leopard that she had ever seen. Its yellow eyes shone like beacons and its fangs hung well over its lower lip. On the other hand, his dotted fur was sleek and his hind muscles moved with fluid power. Mallory was so taken by its handsomeness that she lost the will to speak.

As the leopard stopped some distance away from them, another Leopard came out from behind a tree and joined him. Then a Mole popped out from the ground, a large Rabbit hopped into view, two magnificent Horses cantered into the glade, and slowly more animals entered the glade until Firumel and Mallory were surrounded by them. Mallory realised that these were the Talking Animals of Stormness Head; the Animals that were exiled from Narnia by the White Witch.

"It is indeed you, Firumel," said the first Leopard.

Firumel bowed respectfully. "Yes, Lord Marvyr."

"But I saw you. You were flying," said the other Leopard, which must be Lord Gaurung.

"Indeed I have been able to fly," beamed Firumel. "I don't know how it happened, but it did! I am no longer Firumel the Flightless!"

The Talking Animals cheered and clapped. Lord Marvyr and Lord Gaurung exchanged smiled with each other. Then Lord Marvyr turned to Mallory. "And what is your business in these parts, Daughter of Eve? Have you lost your way from Anvard?"

"No," Mallory finally spoke. "I was sent here by Aslan." Suddenly she felt very brave and important and said, "I am here to summon you to the Dancing Lawn where Aslan awaits."

The Animals were abuzz with chatter and murmurs. Lord Marvyr and Lord Gaurung however, sensed the authority and truth in her words. They bowed and said respectfully, "We heed your words, Daughter of Eve. Take us to him, and let us see what he has in store for us."

"But the Dancing Lawn is so far away!" said a most beautiful Unicorn, who had made its way to the front of the line. Mallory fell in love at once with it. It was pure white in colour and its mane was long and beautifully groomed. A single, silver horn protruded from its head and a soft light shone from it. It was so beautiful that Mallory wondered why it wasn't their leader.

"We can reach there today if we mean to, Snowmane," replied Lord Gaurung, and the Animals chorused, "Yes, that's true!" and Snowmane bowed his magnificent head.

"Then in the name of Aslan, let us set off for the Dancing Lawn at once! Narnia calls! Narnia calls!" said Lord Marvyr, and he bounded off into the woods. The Animals followed his lead and disappeared among the trees, creating such a stampede that it shook the very foundations of Stormness Head. Snowmane the Unicorn lingered a little behind as if doubtful and Mallory approached it.

"Hold there, Snowmane. Why so sad?" Then in that strange voice again, she said more tenderly as she stroked its nose, "Why, O Unicorn, do you doubt me? Do you not recognise me? It is I, the mistress of Silver."

Snowmane gave Mallory a deep and testing look. Then he bowed his head and said, "Aye, so you are, my lady. Silver was the name of my good mother. But if you were her mistress, then you are my mistress also. Ride on me, my lady, so that we may reach the Dancing Lawn at once."

Mallory proceeded to climb onto its back. But just then she remembered Firumel. She looked around for him, but there was no sign of the Eagle. At this, she became quite angry and said to herself, "How horrid of him! He has left without me!" But she was left no time thinking about that, for Snowmane had given a silvery neigh and galloped with all its might for the Dancing Lawn.

Mallory held on to it as best as she could. She had ridden on a horse before, but this was quite different. A horse was unpleasant to ride on if you hadn't any saddle on it, but Snowmane's back was comfortable. And a Unicorn was much faster than an ordinary horse too. In a few minutes time, Snowmane had already crossed a narrow pass through the mountains and caught up with the other Talking Animals.

Just a little ahead of her, she spotted Firumel skirting the top of the trees with his fellow Eagles. She heard the merry chatter and clicking of beaks and swoop of powerful wings, and she saw how happy he was. How silly of her to expect him to wait for her when he had got so much to catch up with his friends!

They now entered a thick forest. The Animals slowed down as they descended a soft slope so as not to knock into each other. Snowmane, the most graceful of the lot, broke away from the hustle and bustle and delicately cantered down. Mallory could see a wide lawn in the middle of the forest and a wonderful array of creatures standing in the heart of it, all laughing and some were singing.

And what fantastic creatures they were! Tall, slim, and ethereal-looking men and women wearing silver-green and gold-blue robes sat on the ground in a circle. Two of them were playing mandolins and another played a golden harp. A good many of them danced around the circle, their shimmering robes giving off a radiance that formed a halo of light around them.

Mallory heard and felt Snowmane gasp with wonder. "The Tree-people and the Well-people!"

"What did you say they were?" asked Mallory, for she didn't quite understood what the Unicorn meant.

"Spirits," he replied, and he did a little leap and landed on the lawn. "And – by Aslan! There's Aslan himself!"

At the mention of his name, Mallory immediately straightened up to look for the Lion. Aslan was standing right in the middle of the lawn, and he had a very stern yet joyful look on his face, as if he was a father watching the return of his children. The Animals that had dared to go near him he breathed and licked and said kind, welcoming words.

Behind him stood a row of serious-looking Centaurs, all of them carrying bows and quivers on their backs and naked swords at their waist. Mallory felt a humming warmth return to her fingers at the sight of the swords and the bows. How she dearly wanted to touch them again!

She gasped and a hand flew to her mouth. Snowmane bucked a bit. "What's the matter, my lady?"

"The – the Chest?"

"A Chest?"

"It was mine, and it had all my weapons in it," said Mallory as she looked despairingly at the Unicorn. Snowmane shook his head. "What a terrible pity indeed. If this was an ordinary day I would be glad to run all the way to the end of the world to fetch it to you."

Mallory smiled. "Thank you, Snowmane."

A sharp horn sounded in the air, a sound that sounded like a bugle, but not quite. Mallory saw that a Centaur had blown it. Instantly the lawn was silent. The Well-people and the Tree-people left their merriment and stood behind Aslan in a half-crescent.

Lord Marvyr and Lord Gaurung, the two Leopards, went forward and bowed respectfully in front of Aslan. "O Sire, we have come."

"So you have. And I am very pleased," said Aslan, and he gave a warm lick to each of the Leopard. "As you can see, the spell of the Witch is broken. The four children of the Prophecy are here in Narnia. The Prophecy will be fulfilled. The Witch will be overthrown."

A great cheering rose from the crowd of Animals and Mallory couldn't help but clap as well.

"But the time for our victory is long yet. The Witch will make war, that is for sure. We have to fight it the best way we can, with the Sons of Adam for your leaders," he paused and now shifted his royal gaze onto Mallory, "and a Daughter of Eve."

Mallory fidgeted a bit on Snowmane's back as every Animal on the lawn now fixed their eyes on her. And not only the Animals, she noticed, but the Well-people and the Tree-people too, and the Centaurs.

"Come forth, Daughter of Eve, though you are not of the Prophecy," said Aslan in a low purr that Mallory felt was meant for her ears only. "And you also, Snowmane the Unicorn."

So Snowmane cantered forwards, making his way through the crowd while Mallory felt extremely uncomfortable by the stares. Soon Snowmane had arrived in front of Aslan and bowed. Mallory got down from him and curtsied the best she could. Aslan moved towards her and licked her cheek with enthusiasm.

"My sister," he growled quietly and affectionately in her ears.

She kissed his nose and knelt on the ground on one knee.

From out of nowhere, Aslan produced a sword and grasped its hilt with one paw. Mallory had never seen it before, yet she was quite sure that it had belonged to her. She recognised the sapphire-encrusted hilt and the golden, gilded scabbard.

Then she remembered. She looked up and directly in Aslan's eyes and said, awed, "This is the sword you made for me."

The Lion smiled and nodded. "It is high time this is returned to you. Keep it and use it well."

Mallory took the sword and bowed. "Thank you, Aslan. Thank you." She rose to her feet.

Aslan nodded once more and clapped his paws together. "Now, to the Stone Table everyone!"

"My, what a Great Hurry this is!" said Snowmane as Mallory climbed onto his back once more.


	12. At Aslan's Camp

Author's note: Thank you all for the amazing reviews. In this chapter, we finally meet the Pevensies! This chapter is book-orientated, but I think the next chapter will be movie-orientated. Anyhow, I hope you guys continue to read and review!

Chapter 12: At Aslan's Camp

They arrived at the Stone Table just a few minutes after they had set off from the Dancing Lawn. Aslan had set them off at such a frantic and excited pace that they barely stopped to take a breather despite the extreme weariness, which was especially felt by the Animals.

At the top of the hill of the Stone Table was a level, grassy area. A slab of stone resting on four shorter stone blocks formed the Stone Table, and these stood in the middle of the wide lawn. Aslan instructed for a pavilion to be set up near the eastern edge of the hill-top. Then he turned to Mallory and said, "Come with me, Mallory."

Mallory was a little surprised, but she asked no questions. She climbed down from Snowmane and patted its nose gently before hurrying of to follow Aslan.

Aslan led her to the edge of the plateau and stood in front of it, silent and solemn. Mallory stood beside him and tried to think of something to say, but there were none that came out of her mouth.

A while later, he turned to her and said, "What do you make of this view?"

So Mallory looked. A little far off from where the slope of the hill met the earth there was a river, a twinkling, twisted cord that made her heart very glad. There was a shallow place, a valley of some sort, where Mallory judged the river could be crossed. But she did not understand what he wanted her to say.

"That is the Fords of Beruna," Aslan pointed at the shallow place. Then he pointed at a sparkling diamond on the very point where the land and the Sea met and said, "That is Cair Paravel. We laid the foundation for it just days after King Frank and Queen Helen had their first child." He smiled while Mallory looked at him, shocked that he knew that she had known about _it._

Sensing her shock, Aslan chuckled softly and said, "I know that Algaurs, or Father Christmas, if you will, has told you about it. He is never one to keep a secret for long." He looked full and deep at her. "But he is a man of honour."

"Yes," she said quietly, for she couldn't think of another thing to say. Being in Aslan's presence, she felt small and unimportant, yet she was comfortable with him, when she knew that she shouldn't be, and the clash of these feelings made her feel very awkward indeed.

But she remembered something, and she said, "Aslan, he, he said that I had done something horrible. Something that made you turn me out. What was it?" Suddenly, rage built up in her. She was angry, but it was not her anger. "Why?"

Aslan sighed and he became subdued. "Oh, Alvarya, oh, Alvarya. If only you knew how painful it was for me to banish you from Narnia. If only you knew how difficult it was - "

"But surely! O Brother, I have loved you and respected you for so long. And you, you who know me best, you should know that I had not meant it!"

"Alvarya!" he said fiercely, like a father would snap at his insolent son. Mallory quailed at once, and the anger instantly fled. She felt nothing but shame. She didn't even know why she had become angry.

"I have my reasons," his anger subsided too, and for that Mallory was anything but glad. "But most of all, you should know that I have never stopped loving you." A golden light shone around him. As Mallory stared in wonder, Aslan was no longer a Lion. He had become a teenager, and his hair was as golden as his mane but his eyes bluer than periwinkle and they were kind and loving and happy. He wore simple clothing and was not a bit like the royalty he was. Yet this was the Aslan that Mallory had remembered. The loving brother. Her best friend.

Tears brimmed in her eyes. "Oh, Aslan!"

Aslan knelt and took her in his arms and laughed as he said, "Yes, it's me, your brother. I haven't changed into my real self for so long." He released her and stretched. "Ah, how good it feels!"

She laughed, but at the same time she was crying. "Don't be silly, Aslan! You asked for it!"

He grinned at her mischievously. "I say! I do feel like running around on two legs again!" He tapped her shoulder smartly. "You're It!"

"No fair!" she said, and she proceeded to chase him down the slope of the hill. They laughed as they ran and several times she almost caught him, but every time he managed to dodge. Finally she managed to pounce on him and they fell onto the grass, a laughing, shaking heap of clothes.

Mallory had never felt so content, even though the feeling of contentment belonged to Alvarya and thus was not hers. She wished her own brother could be like this, but he had never done such a thing before because generally he disliked all childishness. She liked the feel of him holding her, and knowing that he would always love her and protect her.

Suddenly he stood and squatted, and Mallory automatically climbed onto his back and he stood up. Piggyback rides, she smiled to herself. Aslan carried her back towards the hill and they were silent, for there was really nothing to say. He trudged up the slope of the hill as she pressed her cheek to his and sighed with gladness. The fresh scent of him brought her mind back to a world full of tall mountains with snowless peaks and wide, rolling plains and roaring waterfalls, and finally a sea full of white lilies, her favourite flower.

She hugged him ever more tightly, not wanting to lose this precious moment. Ever.

When they reached the top of the hill, he set her down and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll always love you, Mallory. Always." Then a golden light shone around him and he was back into a Lion again. He touched her nose lightly with his nose and said, "Get some rest, Mallory, or eat. It has been a long journey for you." Then he loped off, as if wearied, in the direction of the eastern edge of the hill-top and stared at the Sea for a long time, his head bent. Mallory wanted so much to console him, but somehow she sensed that he needed the privacy.

She made for the pavilion, a stunning erection of rich red and deep gold cloth which edges billowed grandly in the wind. On the very top of the pavilion a golden flag with a red rampant lion stamped on it waved as the breeze caressed it. She entered the pavilion and was immediately greeted by a group of Tree-women and Well-women who, with their tinkling laughter, brought her down to the Fords of the lovely, roaring river of Beruna and there they bathed and refreshed themselves in the cool water. Mallory had never before so much as dipped her feet into a river, let alone bathe in it, so it was quite a thing for her, entering the river, much less bathe in it with such beautiful creatures as Naiads and Dryads. After they had bathed and laughed and played as much as they could, they returned to the pavilion in their wet-cloths and she changed into a most comfortable Narnian riding dress coloured in a magnificent red. Then the Tree-women and Well-women found a suitable belt to hold the sword that Aslan had given (and made) for her so that she was able to carry the sword snugly around her waist and it would not weigh her down, despite the gilded scabbard. After all this was taken care of, Mallory sat down to a hearty lunch of berries and fruits and roast and mashed potatoes with the wonderful female company.

It was well after lunch that Mallory was finally allowed to leave the pavilion. She walked about the hill-top, enjoying the fresh and crisp Narnian air which was so different from that of England. A few feet away from the pavilion, the Centaurs were holding a duel of their own. The clanging and clashing of swords excited her so much so that she immediately dashed for the scene.

"Oh, can I fight too? Can I?"

One of the Centaurs, a fair-haired and fairly young one, laughed gaily and said, "I am afraid not, Daughter of Eve. We are a good deal taller than you are."

"But I can wield a sword!" she said indignantly, and despite her annoyance, she laughed together with the Centaurs. "Please, give me a horse and I shall show you what I can do. I will not disappoint, not will I be a waste of time to you."

The same Centaur turned to their leader, a deep-chested and stern-looking Centaur with black hair, "What do you say, General Oreius?"

Oreius smiled and said, "This Daughter of Eve has a sword with her. And it is the one that my father had oft described to me because he was taken by its beauty. Let the Prince, or in this case, Princess, win her spurs! Fetch her a horse!"

"I shall be her steed," said Snowmane, and he came forth with a proud stamp of hoofs. Mallory climbed onto the Unicorn and unsheathed her sword.

"Graneus," said Oreius, referring to the fair-haired one who had laughed at her. "The first strike goes to you. Agree, Daughter of Eve?"

Mallory drew a deep breath and tightened her knees on Snowmane's body. "Agreed."

"Then we shall begin!"

Graneus charged forward and swung his sword at her. She deflected the blow and Snowmane cantered in the opposite direction. Graneus laughed and made for her again. Mallory kicked Snowmane's flanks forward and the two met midway in a stunning blow-for-blow duel. Their swords clanged and clashed and rang out so loudly that it drew the attentions of every Animal, every Naiad and every Dryad on the hill-top. Mostly, Mallory was the one on the receiving end. She parried and blocked until she was quite tired, but she was determined not to lose. Gritting her teeth, she picked up her strength and began deflecting his blows, foiling his attacks. Upon the impending sense of victory, she attacked now, raining blow upon blow upon his sword, and, in one smooth, fluid move that she didn't quite understand, manage to intertwine his sword and hers and wrench it out of his grasp.

Mallory was hot and sweaty and her arm was weary from the heavy and furious sword-wielding, but the triumph was well worth it. The claps that came in from all directions of the audience circle fuelled her pride, but she remembered to keep her ego in check. She kissed Snowmane and said, "Thank you!"

Snowmane whinnied a bit. "No, thank _you_. That was excellent! I shall be proud to be your steed in the face of battle."

Mallory laughed. "If Aslan wills it."

Graneus trotted over towards her and held out a hand, smiling, "It was an honour to have been your opponent, my lady. You are a fine warrior!"

She blushed a little, but took his hand anyway and shook it firmly, "Thank you for the compliment. But you almost had me there, you know."

Graneus laughed. "I thought I would never live the day to be defeated by a female Centaur, let alone a little Daughter of Eve like you!" And they all erupted in hearty laughter.

Mallory sheathed her sword and was about to descend from Snowmane when she saw Aslan standing a far way off. But she saw the look on his face, and it was one of pride.

"Mallory!"

She whirled around. "Firumel!" she exclaimed. Abandoning all mannerism, she jumped down from the Unicorn and ran towards him and hugged him. "Oh, Firumel! I thought you'd forgotten about me!"

Firumel laughed (more like a cackling, really). "Forgive me about that, Mallory. I'm sorry, truly I am! Anyway, where were you?"

"I was with Aslan."

"Oh, very well then! I saw your match with that Centaur. Very amazing. But you slaying the Minotaurs was even more terrifying, in my humble opinion."

"Why thank you! I really had no idea how I did that, but at the same time, it all made perfect sense to me. Isn't that odd now?"

Before Firumel could reply, a short blast of a horn reached their ears and the Animals left whatever they were doing and headed for the direction of the sound. Firumel and Mallory exchanged curious look and went too.

The Naiads and the Dryads and the Centaurs and the Leopards Lord Marvyr and Lord Gaurung, and Snowmane the Unicorn had formed a half-crescent around Aslan. The Naiads and the Dryads had brought with them their stringed instruments and struck up a beautiful melody. Firumel went to stand next to Snowmane. Mallory stood half-hidden behind him so that she could watch what was going to enfold.

First, a pair of Beavers pattered up the hill and came into view. Shortly after, three children followed, two girls and one boy. Mallory gave a gasp, for the children were exactly like the ones she had seen before. The boy, who was tallest and perhaps eldest, led the children. They came to a halt several feet away from Aslan and the gathering of creatures. Mallory watched as they whispered with each other for a moment, then with the Beavers, and then the boy drew his sword and came forth. Mallory realised pleasantly that it was the very same sword that she had given to Father Christmas.

"We have come – Aslan." The music stopped.

"Welcome, Peter, Son of Adam. Welcome, Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. Welcome, He-Beaver and She-Beaver. But where is the fourth?"

Mallory was just wondering the exact thing. There were supposed to be four of them.

"He has tried to betray them and joined the White Witch, O Aslan," said one of the Beavers, bowing respectfully as it did so.

Suddenly the boy, Peter, said, "That was partly my fault, Aslan. I was angry with him and I think it helped him go wrong."

A heavy silence fell on all of them. Mallory's senses were standing on a prickly edge indeed. She wondered why Aslan did not say anything about it. Peter fidgeted as he waited for a response. The girls looked as if they were holding their breaths. Then the youngest one said, "Please – Aslan. Can anything be done to save Edmund?"

"All shall be done," said Aslan solemnly, "But it may be harder than you think." Then he shook his mane and clapped his paws. "Meanwhile, let the feast be prepared. Ladies, take these Daughters of Eve to the pavilion and minister to them."

The Naiads and the Dryads took the girls away towards the pavilion and the crowd dissipated save for the Centaurs. One of the Dryads took her hand, laughing a pleasant silvery laugh, and Mallory waved goodbye at the Eagle.

They entered the pavilion and the Naiads and the Dryads did to the girls what they had done with Mallory, who was left with the task of choosing dresses for the girls to wear. When they returned to the pavilion, Mallory handed them their new Narnian dresses.

"Why thank you!" said the elder girl, and the younger one was so excited that she straightaway pulled it on.

"I'm Susan, by the way," the elder girl held out a hand and smiled. "Susan Pevensie."

"And I'm Lucy," said the younger one.

"I'm Mallory. Say, how are the dress? Do they fit?"

"Oh, very!" Lucy beamed as she twirled around. "This is the most beautiful dress I've ever worn."

Susan laughed and said, "Let's go out and get Peter and show him our new dresses!" She took Lucy's hand and ran out of the pavilion.

Suddenly Mallory heard screams. Then, a rich sound, richer than any Narnian horn that Mallory had heard, pierced into the air. She ran out of the pavilion and saw that a pack of wolves had stormed the encampment. A particularly huge and shaggy-furred one bounded for Susan and Lucy and they managed to swing themselves up onto a tree. But Susan's legs hung too close to the wolf's snapping jaws for comfort. A wolf rushed for Mallory and she quickly drew her sword and slashed at its head, cutting it off completely. But strangely the blood and the horrible mess didn't bother her one bit. With her sword swathed in bright red blood, she ran towards the tree where the wolf was snapping at the girls.

But just then, Aslan and the boy, with a few Centaurs had rushed for the pavilion. The Centaurs were about to start for the wolves and Mallory was about to join them, but Aslan waved his paw.

"Back!" he said. "Let the Prince win his spurs." He cast a stern look at Mallory. "Put the sword back."

"But Aslan - "

"Mallory," he growled quietly, and she understood. He needed the boy to prove himself. She nodded and sheathed the sword back. Aslan nodded in approval.

The boy ran up towards the biggest wolf and slashed at his side, but it seemed to have missed. They screamed when the wolf had sensed the boy's presence. It turned around to face him, and, Mallory had to admit, the ferocious advance of the wolf, its snarling fangs and murderous yellow eyes, were fierce enough to make the bravest boys quake.

Without any warning at all, the wolf growled and leapt at the boy, who bravely plunged his sword down between the wolf's forelegs and into its heart. Unfortunately, the wolf landed on top of him, and he struggled to get out from underneath the wolf.

"Oh, Peter!" the girls cried, and they leapt down from the tree to free him. They hugged and kissed and cried for joy and the danger was over. Mallory wiped her blade clean on the grass (the sight of it made her sick now) and sheathed it and descended the slope for the river, where she washed her face thoroughly and scrubbed her hands until her skin was red.


	13. The Witch's Bargain

Author's note: Thanks mucho mucho for the reviews (yet again!) but the gratitude must, simply must be shown! Here, the Witch makes a cameo (ta-da) and, to be quite truthful, this isn't a very eventful chapter, but is absolutely necessary to push the story along. Yah, enough of my ramblings, let's get on with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belongs to C. S. Lewis ('nuff said)

Chapter 13: The Witch's Bargain

Mallory awoke the next morning after a deep, restful sleep, in a most uncomely way. She had been sleeping on a pile of cushions in the pavilion beside Firumel (who didn't like the idea of sleeping on the ground at all) and accidentally tumbled off the cushions and right onto the Eagle, who screeched until everyone in the pavilion woke up, but soon returned to sleep.

"Really, Firumel!" she said crossly, "You needn't have made such a big fuss about it!"

"How would you like if _I_ had jumped onto _you_ instead?" he shot back.

Mallory blushed and stormed out of the pavilion.

She made her way down the hill towards the river and washed her face in the ice-cold water. The sun had risen and its happy, glad rays spread throughout the country. After she had washed her face, she trudged back up the hill, still a little sleepy, and went into the pavilion for breakfast, but just as she was about to lift the flap to the pavilion, she caught sight of Aslan and a boy walking all by themselves and engaged in deep conversation. She was curious about the whole scene, as she had never seen the boy before (perhaps it was Susan and Lucy and Peter's brother) but her stomach growled and she had to give in to breakfast.

The children were already seated at a low table whereupon a scrumptious breakfast had been laid out.

"May I?"

"Of course!" said Lucy and she edged over towards Susan, leaving space for Mallory between her and Peter. Mallory felt a bit awkward for having to sit beside a boy (much more a teenager), but she didn't want to appear rude, so she sat.

"Good morning," greeted Susan warmly and Mallory replied, "And a good morning to you too."

Peter, the boy, chewed absently on a piece of toast and didn't seem to notice her. He looked as if he was in deep thought. Mallory ignored him and asked Lucy to pass the jam.

When a few minutes of silence ensued, Lucy, who was feeling quite uncomfortable at seeing Mallory and Peter not even acknowledging each other's presence, cleared her throat and said, "What are you thinking about, Peter?"

He took another bite out of his toast. "Home."

"Funny, now that you mention it, I was thinking about Mum and Dad and England all last night too," admitted Susan. She finished spreading some butter on her toast and sighed. "I miss home, even if Narnia's a hundred times better than London, but still."

"I understand the feeling, Su," Peter smiled at his sister.

"But really," said Lucy, "we're in Narnia now. Must you think of home when we're all having such an excellent time here?"

"Ed's not," reprimanded Peter. "That's why we're here in the first place. To get him, and then," he put what was left on his toast on his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin, "we're going home."

Lucy stared at Peter in dismay. "Oh, Peter!"

"You don't really believe in us becoming Kings and Queens, do you? This kind of thing only happens in fairy tales. And we're not in one. We're in a very, very real and dire situation. We don't know where Ed is, or how is he faring, or most importantly, how we're going to get him back."

"No, you won't," said Mallory at last. "Leave it to Aslan. He'll take care of this."

"Can he?" he bellowed at her, finally losing his temper. "Aslan – Aslan – Aslan, that's all everyone ever says. That's all very fine for you, but it's not for me. I don't want to hang around here not doing anything while my brother's out there inches away from death and God knows what. I – I want to go out there and look for him. Yes, that's what I should be doing, and when I finally find him, I'll drag him back to England by the collar. And you're an outsider, probably one of these Narnians, and what do you know about losing someone, eh?"

"What do I know?" exclaimed Mallory. Surprisingly, she felt tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. The pain of separation and the joy of reconciliation churned and stabbed her heart. The good times, and the bad ones, the piggyback rides, the memories that were not hers yet felt so comfortable and familiar to her came back at once. And this time she couldn't stop the tears from falling.

Peter was stunned. "I'm – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - "

But she had heard enough. Mallory jumped to her feet and ran out of the pavilion as fast as she could so that no one else could see her crying.

Why? Why? Why? What had she done to deserve this? She hated Alvarya, she hated her and her memories, her unbelievable weaponry skills, her close, tight bond with Aslan. She wished that she could go back to London and forget all this. It was a nightmare, a nightmare that alternated with exhilaration and delight, but in the very essence, it was a horrible nightmare she couldn't throw away.

She ran into the woods and collapsed by a tree. Why? She gathered her knees to her chin and buried her face into the space between them. Why? Why? Why? The sobs were heavy and she didn't try to control them now.

Then, "Mallory?"

Her head shot up and she found Firumel looking down concernedly at her. He gasped. "What – are you all right?"

She nodded a little and he clicked his beak. "Come now, Mallory. What's happened? Would you like to share it with me?"

Mallory shook her head and calmed down so that the sobs would subside. This took quite a while, and as the last of the heaves ended, she took a deep breath and dried her eyes. All the while, Firumel stood beside her, patient and understanding. Thankfully, he understood her need to be silent.

Finally she managed to croak out, "I'm sorry, Firumel. I must have looked like an ass."

He laughed his cackle-like laugh and said, "Don't worry about it. Snowmane has been looking for you actually. He wanted you to ride him - " he chuckled, "I wonder what you've done to him. Narnian Horses, especially Unicorns, don't like to be tamed, you know. But when I asked him, he said that you were his mother's mistress (besides your excellent riding skills) so he had great respect for you. So I've thought it over, and I've connected it all with your extraordinary fighting skills and your odd speeches, and I've concluded this: you were some sort of great, heroic figure in the past, brought by Aslan for a heroic purpose, and then you were brought back here to Narnia to aid him once more." He beamed.

Mallory had to laugh. "I wish it was as simple as that."

"What? You mean I was wrong?"

"No," she said quickly, "No, it's just that – well, to be truthful, I don't even know the whole thing myself. I've just gotten bits from here and there - " (which is of course, not true, she couldn't help but think guiltily) " – so I'm afraid I can't confirm your theory."

"And it would be just plain silly to ask Aslan," Firumel laughed again and flexed his wings. "Boy, all this standing in the woods are numbing my nerves. Come, let's get back to the camp. I see the Animals are gathering. Let's go see what they're up to."

"Do let's." Mallory and Firumel rushed back towards the hill-top.

Mallory caught sight of Aslan and hurried towards him. "Aslan?"

Aslan let out a low growl and gave her a deep, trusting look. "Whatever happens, Mallory, you are to keep perfectly quiet. Do I make myself clear?'

"Yes, Aslan."

Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy had gathered on the other side of Aslan. Peter quickly cast his head down when their gazes met and a flush crept up his face.

Lord Marvyr came, and behind him was the Witch herself, in all her cold and white glory. Her skin was as white as sheet, her hair a pale, steely gold, and what Mallory noticed most about her was her height. She was definitely taller than the men of England, and even taller than the Centaurs. Beside her, a short, stout, grumpy dwarf huffed and puffed to keep up with her long strides. The air had suddenly turned chill, as if the Witch herself brought winter with her everywhere she went. Mallory heard a sharp intake of breath from Edmund, and Peter's voice saying, "Steady, Ed. Steady." However, the oddest thing about the Witch was, Mallory could swear that she had seen her before. There was something very familiar in the fierceness and chillness in her eyes.

She halted several feet away from Aslan and fixed an icy glare on Edmund and said, "You have a traitor with you, Aslan." But Edmund did not look at her. He just went on looking at Aslan, wondering what he would do.

"His offense was not against you," said the Lion.

"Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?" she snapped.

"Let us say I have forgotten it. Tell us of this Deep Magic."

"Tell you?" her voice suddenly went up a note higher and a tad icier. "Tell you what is written on the Table of Stone that stands beside us? Tell you what is written in letters deep on the fire-stones on the Secret Hill? Tell you what is engraved on the sceptre of the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea? You at least know the Magic which the Emperor put into Narnia at the very beginning. You know that every traitor belongs to me as my lawful prey and that for every treachery I have a right to kill.

"And so," the Witch pointed an unwavering finger at Edmund, "that human is mine. His blood is my right to claim."

Lucy gasped and gripped Edmund's hand tighter.

Suddenly, Peter drew his sword and pointed its keen, razor tip at the Witch. "Come and take it then!"

"Peter!" Mallory hissed.

"Fool!" The Witch's eyes blazed. "Do you think you can rob me of my rights by mere force? Your master knows the Deep Magic better than that. He knows that unless I have blood, all Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water."

Even though this came out of the Witch's mouth and she might have been lying for all they knew, Mallory knew sullenly that she was right. It seemed like a complete dead-end.

"It is true," said Aslan. "I do not deny it. Peter, keep your sword and hold your peace."

Peter blushed a bit and sheathed his sword, but he still did not shift his angry glare from the Witch.

"Back, all of you," said Aslan, "I will talk to the Witch alone." He gave a look at the Witch which was polite, or disliking, or merely sad, none of them knew, and the Witch huffed and went into the pavilion. The Lion followed her and the camp was silent.

"Oh, I hope that everything will be all right," said Lucy, her voice trembling. "Oh, Edmund!"

Edmund did not reply, but he kept his eyes fixed on the pavilion. Peter took Lucy's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Susan sighed softly and looked sadly at Mallory, who tried to smile as optimistically as possible.

At long, long last, Aslan and the Witch came out from the pavilion and Aslan announced, "She has renounced the claim on the Son of Adam's blood." The camp erupted in a multitude of hurrays and clapping and the Pevensies hugged each other and Lucy cried and laughed as she said, "Oh, Ed! Oh, Ed!" and Peter messed his hair and said, "Good for you, Ed!" while Susan only managed to laugh with tears in her eyes.

The Witch was just about to turn away with glorious triumph on her face, but stopped, seemed to remember something, and whirled around. "But how do I know this promise will be kept?"

Aslan stood on his hind legs and gave a loud, deafening roar that shook all Narnia from the lamp-post to the windows of Cair Paravel. And, needless to say, the Witch picked up her skirts and fairly ran for her life.


	14. Flight to Anvard

Chapter 14: Flight to Anvard

After the Witch had left, Aslan ordered for the camp to be moved to the Fords of Beruna.

"But why?" asked Susan.

"This place will be wanted for other purposes," he responded simply and proceeded down the hill. All throughout the journey to the Fords, he talked to Peter and Edmund about his plan for the campaign while Susan and Lucy and Mallory speculated about how Aslan had managed to deal with the Witch. Mallory had not quite made up yet with Peter and they were both carefully avoiding each other.

"Well, whichever way it is," concluded Lucy with a heavy sigh, "I'm certain that we'll never know it."

"Oh, don't you say that, Lucy," said Mallory. "You might just. You'll never know." And she thought about the dreadful thing she had done as Alvarya, and suddenly it occurred to her that it might have had something to do with the Witch.

After some time, Aslan fell back from the front of the group and continued the journey in a rather subdued mood. Just as Mallory noticed this, Edmund had fallen in step beside her.

"Hullo there," he said.

"Hello to you to."

"Edmund, this is Mallory," said Lucy. "And Mallory, well, here you go. This is Ed."

Mallory and Edmund shook hands. She couldn't help but notice that his handshake shook just the tiniest bit.

"Are you from England?" asked Edmund.

"Yes. London, to be exact."

"So you came here directly from London?"

"No. I was staying at my uncle's in Scotland. You?"

Edmund snorted a bit. "We got stuck with a dotty old professor in a big house right in the middle of nowhere. But honestly - " he quickly added, " – it isn't too bad. Why if it wasn't for the Professor, we wouldn't be here."

Lucy smiled and said, "And you will still be the same, old - "

" – grumpy and tiresome Edmund Pevensie," finished Susan with an ambiguous smile.

Edmund laughed. "Have I really changed that much? But that's good if I have, after, you know, what Aslan said, and I really want and mean to. Change, I mean."

Lucy threw her arms around her brother. "Oh, Ed!"

Mallory laughed. Suddenly she felt something warm and heavy rest on her shoulder and she turned around to look.

It was Aslan. His eyes were great and sad but his bearing as stately and stern as ever. "Come, there is something I wish to tell you."

She nodded mutely and followed him to the end of the march.

Aslan lumbered on for a time, his body seemed to be weighed down by a terrible sorrow, so terrible that it affected Mallory as well. "Aslan, what's the matter? Why are your spirits low and your heart so weary?"

He did not look up, if anything, his head went down a few inches lower. "Oh, Mallory. I have committed myself to a very evil pact that will lead to my undoing. How I regret my actions, yet I am glad that I had thought of it. Put your hand on my mane, Mallory, so that I may be comforted."

She obeyed. The soft thickness of his mane seem to heal her hands of its tiredness. After a while, she plucked up the courage to ask, "How did you deal with her? The Witch."

"I shall not speak of it now," he replied. "For it will only weigh your heart down with an unnecessary burden." Suddenly his head arched straight and he stopped. His gaze was fixed at the opposite bank of the river of Beruna. Mallory held her breath.

After a few minute, she heard a low growl come from the Lion. "She has done it. My worst fear has come to pass."

"What is it, Aslan? What is it?"

"Archenland," he said, and he turned to meet her face. "She has sent a legion of her army to storm the castle of Anvard."

Her jaw fell. "But – but how do you know?"

"Do you not see? They are moving south, which can only mean Archenland, of course, and they are moving slightly to the east. The Witch is clever enough to have found out the location of Anvard. I suppose she intends to storm it and Narnia at once." He growled, a true, feral growl that made Mallory's skin bristle with discomfort.

He resumed his walk but this time his movement matched more of a prowl than of a lumber. After a few minutes of thought, he finally said, "Mallory, I'm afraid that you have to do one more thing for me."

Mallory did not quail this time, but she tried to feel brave and willing, "What is it?"

He fixed his stern, solemn grey eyes on her and said, "Once the night falls, make for Anvard with all speed. Take Snowmane the Unicorn with you, for Firumel the Eagle will be needed in battle, though Snowmane is meant to be used by the High King, but I suppose Windstorm is just as worthy. Ride with all haste to the castle of Anvard and alert the King Rufus. He will have a better chance at defeating the Witch's army if given early warning. Mallory, can you do this?"

She nodded. "I can and I will, Aslan. But isn't it better to set off at once?"

He thought about it, nodding, then he said, "Yes, of course, haste is the essence, but it is also wiser to move by night. The darkness will shade you from the eyes of the Enemy. Furthermore, the remnant of the Witch's army will be occupied with another business tonight, so you need not worry about being ambushed."

"What business is that?"

Aslan sighed and shook his head. "It is of no importance to you." Mallory understood the finality in his words and remained silent. She knew and accepted now that he would tell her only what she needed to know. As much as she resented not being able to know things, she respected his decision.

The pavilion had been re-erected and most of the Animals had gone to sleep. Peter and Edmund went to bed early to rest themselves for the battle tomorrow while Susan and Lucy stayed up with two Dryads who told them stories of Narnia during the reign of King Frank and Queen Helen. Mallory heard only half of the birth of Narnia when she realised that she should be starting off for Anvard. On the pretext of going to the lavatory, she buckled the sword-belt on and went out into the inky blackness. Near the tent, a small fire was left burning and illuminated a small portion of the campground. A Centaur stood by the fire, stamping his hoofs every now and then.

Carefully, she tiptoed away from the entrance and moved to where the Animals slept. In the darkness, she could make out the faint silhouette of Snowmane's horn and she made her way towards him. She shook him gently.

"Snowmane . . . Snowmane . . ."

"Hrrumph? What?" he raised his head and blinked, then he said, "Oh, it's you, my lady."

"We've got to go to Anvard now."

His eyes widened. "Now?"

She nodded gravely. "Yes. On Aslan's orders. And don't you look at me like that, Snowmane, I'm not trying to run away from tomorrow's battle."

"No, of course not," said Snowmane hastily and he got to his feet. "Let's go. Anvard, you say?"

"Yes. As fast as we can."

Snowmane neighed softly and cantered towards the border of the camp. "Get on then, my lady."

Mallory climbed onto him and he trotted away south into thick, dark woods to make as little noise as possible. When they had passed the hill of the Stone Table, he broke into full gallop. Mallory gasped as she held on to his mane. Such speed! The Unicorn dodged bushes and trees with an astonishing agility. Sometimes he just rammed through small thickets and his speed never faltered. It took some time until Mallory could get used to the sudden lurchings and the wind whistling past her ears and whipping at her face. The ride was almost as exhilarating as that on Firumel. The rhythmic pounding of his hoofs matched the furious thundering of her heart.

When they broke out of the woods and entered a wide, pleasant plain, the night was considerably lighter. Mallory guessed that it was around two or three o'clock in the morning. Several minutes later she found Snowmane slowing down as they reached the narrow, rocky passes of the mountains of Archenland. And then they were in Archenland itself, and the sun began to rise in the east, throwing streaks of pink and orange in the sky.

By the time Anvard had come into sight, the sun had risen fully. Anvard was a castle of red bricks and it looked very homely. It was undeniably smaller than Cair Paravel, but it had a certain warmth that Cair Paravel lacked. Mallory felt her spirits singing as they approached the portcullis.

"Hold there!" A guard called out from one of the watch-towers flanking the gates. He wore a simple helmet and simple mail. "Who goes?"

"I am a messenger of Aslan and I wish to speak to King Rufus."

The guard's eyes widened when he heard the name. "Aslan, you say?"

She gritted her teeth and Snowmane stamped his hoofs in impatience. "Yes, Aslan. This is urgent!"

The guard nodded, still a little dazed, and disappeared into the tower and the portcullis was raised in a racket of clangings and clinkings. Before the portcullis had been fully raised, Mallory had urged Snowmane through it. They came into a wide, paved courtyard, in the middle of which was a lovely fountain. The courtyard was flanked by magnificent beech trees as tall as time.

The guard descended from the tower and led her and Snowmane to the great, wooden doors of the castle, which stood open. A short flight of wide, sweeping steps led up to the castle doors. Here, Mallory descended from Snowmane and followed the guard into the castle. However, she had barely taken ten steps in the vast entrance hall when she heard angry neighs and the shouting of men. She turned around and saw several men trying to muzzle Snowmane.

"Stop! Stop! What are you doing?"

"We're going to take him to the stables," replied one of the men, releasing the muzzle at once.

"Please, that is a Unicorn of Narnia. I hope you understand that it doesn't enjoy being muzzled, or being kept in a stable either, so do not attempt to bind him." She smiled a little.

"Yes, you heard my mistress," Snowmane added with the threat of a bite underneath his voice.

"Very well."

The guard led her through the great, big hall, which was void of decorations except a few rich tapestries and suits of armour spaced at regular intervals. The hall rose up and up and up until its ceiling felt like a thousand miles away. The ceiling was made of beautifully crafted stained glass so that when the sun shone, it cast dazzling, colourful rays on the floor and repeated the mystical symbol of the royal family of Archenland that was imprinted on the glass.

At the end of the hall was another set of heavy, wooden doors and these were open too. In the middle of the entrance hall, a set of wide stairs that led to the west and east wings of the castle stood on opposite walls. The guard led Mallory into the hall beyond the doors and she found herself in the great hall of the castle, which, if anything, was even bigger than the entrance hall. A little away from the doors, two lines of high-backed stone chairs started and continued all the way to the dais at the end of the great hall. The ceiling of the great hall was similar to the one in the entrance hall. Upon the dais there were two high-backed stone chairs that were bigger and more ornately carved than the ones below the dais.

On one of those big stone chairs sat a rather plump king with curly dark hair and dark beard. He was dressed in rich clothes. He appeared to be in deep council with two men who were dressed in plain brown clothes but the feathered caps on their heads showed that they were noblemen.

"Your Majesty," said the guard. In the almost-empty hall his voice echoed all throughout. The king lifted his head and called out back, "Yes?"

"This lady here wishes to speak to you. She claims to be a messenger of Aslan."

"Please, Your Majesty," said Mallory. "I bring dire news. The army of the White Witch, tyrant of Narnia, has come to Archenland to sack the castle of Anvard. At this very moment, they are preparing for battle." Actually, she wasn't very sure of this, but she supposed that they were most likely doing that.

King Rufus stood, ignoring the surprised looks on the faces of his advisors. "You say that you come on Aslan's orders?"

"Aye, Your Majesty."

"How true is this? Can I believe you?"

"As true as Aslan's heart."

"Then we shall be ready when they meet us. Guard! Call the Princes of Archenland to the Great Hall at once. And hurry!"


	15. The Battle

Chapter 15: The Battle

King Rufus was a man of quick and sharp mind. In short order, the King's Army had been assembled and divided to man various posts at the castle walls. His eldest son, Prince Lune, a full-grown man of almost thirty, was to lead the charge out of the portcullis. He took the order with a kiss on his father's hand.

"As you command, Father."

The other elder Princes of Archenland were to lead several of the army's divisions and they accepted their duty without any fuss. However, the younger Princes, whose names were Rum and Rumil and who were only slightly older than Mallory, were ordered to stay put in the castle.

"But Father!" protested the elder, fair-haired one, Rum. "We're old enough to take one division. We really are!"

"Silence, Rum!" said King Rufus sternly. "You are still mere children. A child's place is not in the battlefield."

"Come on, Father!" said Rumil, the dark-haired half. "I promise we won't kill anyone on accident, or, or, lead the men away from Anvard, or anything!"

King Rufus laughed to see their antics. Even Mallory couldn't help a smile. "No, I am sure that you are not daft enough to do that, but it is not safe, do you hear me? You may have done well with the sword or the bow during practices, but I tell you, the real battle is far more difficult, and more dangerous. Please, I beg you, stay in the castle with your sister Rumilia, and be good children."

Suddenly, a small girl slightly younger than Mallory rushed out from behind a stone chair and hugged King Rufus's leg. "Oh, Father, don't go!"

The whole hall burst into merry laughter and Rum and Rumil turned red. "Rumilia!" they hissed angrily together.

"Oho, Rumilia, don't worry, I won't be going anywhere. I'll be here, right here in Anvard."

"Then - " Rumilia wiped her eyes, " – what's all this talk about a battle?"

"An enemy is coming to conquer Anvard," the King said as gently as possible. "So we can't let them take it, can we? We are going to fight back. Can you do me a favour, my dear Rumilia?"

"What is it, Father?"

"Remain in the castle and make sure that your brothers," he winked at them, "don't try anything funny." Rumilia giggled as the boys groaned. "Yes, Father."

"What about me, Your Majesty?" said Mallory. She was as anxious as the men in the hall. Stirring restlessly in her heart ever since the council had begun was a yearning to take part in the battle.

"You?" King Rufus gave her an odd look. Then it dawned on Mallory that he had completely forgotten about her. She was ill-pleased with that revelation, but she couldn't blame him for he had more important matters to acknowledge than her.

The hall, it seemed, was simply astounded to hear a girl speak, for Rumilia was the only princess in the court. She could feel Prince Lune's sharp gaze, as keen as his father's, sizing her up and wondering who she was and what was she doing at the King's side.

"You are a mere girl," he said simply. Mallory felt her cheeks burn, but she remembered Aslan's calm even in the presence of the Witch and she felt ashamed and tried to be as composed as well. "Yes, I am."

"Then you have no place in battle," said King Rufus.

"But I can fight! Look here, is this not a sword around my waist?"

The men erupted in laughter and Prince Lune smiled. King Rufus, however, frowned and said, "You are to stay here with Prince Rum, Prince Rumil and Princess Rumilia. After the battle, you may stay here for a few days if you wish, but after that, we will escort you to Narnia."

Mallory was extremely crestfallen, but the King's words were law. She curtsied a bit and said a little stiffly, "Yes, Your Majesty."

Then the council was over and the men went to fetch their armour and weapons and get ready to meet the Witch's army. A thin, but rather tired-looking woman who was Rum, Rumil and Rumilia's governess led them and Mallory as well to the children's bedchamber, where they were to wait until the fight was done with.

"Not even a good view of the castle gates!" exclaimed Rumil, a distasteful tinge on his words. He let go of the thin, flowery curtains and leapt onto the divan where Rumilia was sitting obediently, reading a book.

"Who are you?" asked Rum, who was standing by the window. His arms were folded in a way that was probably meant to show his authority as a prince.

"I'm Mallory," she answered.

"Hello! I'm Rumilia!" said the little princess. "Come and sit over here!"

Mallory shook her head. Somehow, she felt a bit awkward about being in the same room with princes and a princess. This sort of feeling comes when one isn't a member of the royalty.

"Oh, shucks! This is boring! Let's sneak out, Rum!" said Rumil.

Rum gave him a delighted look. "Come on then!"

"Oh, don't do this, you two!" said Rumilia, wringing her hands. "What will Father say? Oh, what will he say?"

"I don't care at the moment," said Rum gleefully. "He can scold me all he want and smack my bottom but for now, I just can't be bothered. And luckily Nurse is asleep."

Rumil quickly made for the door and he was joined by Rum. They opened the door and Rumil ran out, but Rum stayed and looked at Mallory. "Are you going to come with us or do you want to play doll with Rumilia?"

"Don't go, Mallory!" said Rumilia, looking almost ready to cry. "Please don't! We're going to get into so much trouble if you do. And you heard Father. It's dangerous out there!"

"We'll be all right, Rumilia," said Mallory and hurried out the door with Rum without a second thought.

Rum led her down to the armoury which was next to the stables. Thankfully for them, there were no guards patrolling the corridors to catch them. "There usually are, but I suppose that everyone's busy fighting now."

At the armoury, Rumil was already trying on the few chain-mail and helmets and gauntlets and greaves that were left there. None of them fit for him because the armour was made for men much bigger and taller than him. "These are too – unngh – too big!"

"Forget those, Rumil!" said Rum as he picked up a long sword that was probably too heavy for him because he couldn't hold it up at all. Mallory spotted a short one and gave it to him. "Try this one."

He looked at her in horror. "No, I won't! That's a kid's sword, and I'm not going to use a miniature sword. Anyway, who are you to give me orders? And why can you have that fine-looking sword and not me?"

"Because it's light enough for me. And don't ask me why, because I haven't the foggiest idea."

In the end, they had all picked a sword that suited them (Rum still insisted on carrying a sword that looked manly enough for him even though it was quite heavy). Next, they went into the stable where Mallory found Snowmane and told him that they were going to fight as the boys looked at him, their mouths gaping in wonder.

Snowmane gave a loud neigh and stamped his hoofs. "Then let us go now! Victory, oh, sweet victory!" Mallory laughed and climbed him and stroked his soft mane.

"Oh boy, how I wish I had a unicorn like him to call my own," said Rumil enviously.

"This isn't just a unicorn, this is a Narnian Unicorn," said Mallory rather proudly and Snowmane shook his mane.

A loud, brash horn sounded, trembling the ground and the stable walls. "That's our call!" said Mallory and she spurred the Unicorn into action. The boys quickly grabbed a gelding each without bothering to saddle them and went after her.

There was already a fierce battle at the portcullis by the time Mallory reached there. Snowmane entered the battle fearlessly, pointing its horn forward and stabbed a Minoboar right in the chest. "Excellent, Snowmane!" shouted Mallory and she unsheathed her sword in a rush of adrenaline and deftly brought a Ghoul down. Everything happened so fast; you couldn't keep track of the time quite well when you're busy trying to stay alive, but Mallory soon realised that while it was fun and exciting to be actually a part of the battle; when she saw the whole extent of the grisly scene that stretched all the way from the portcullis to the valley below and saw how quickly men were being taken out by the Witch's ghastly army only did the fear set in upon her. The Witch's men spared no mercy for anyone. They did not fear the King, nor any Prince for that matter. Down in the valley below Anvard, Mallory could make out the gleaming armour and bright red cloaks of the King and the Princes trying their best to drive the enemy back, but their ranks were broken. Snowmane spotted the dire situation and instantly brought Mallory to the scene.

"What? Where are you going, Snowmane?" she yelled as she avoided a narrow swing of a club and slashed furiously at an especially hideous-looking Ogre. The Ogre staggered back but he was not to be taken out easily. He swung his club with ungodly might at Snowmane. The Unicorn screamed with fear and dodged, but he lost his footing and fell, throwing Mallory out of her seat and right at the feet of the angry Ogre. It aimed another blow at her, which she just only missed, and she got to her feet and climbed onto the club which was still on the ground, and while the Ogre swung it wildly to shake her off, somehow, she managed to stick her sword into the one of the Ogre's eyes and the next thing she knew, the Ogre had fallen and she was wiping her blade on the grass. The sight of the Ogre's blood and bits of his eye upset her stomach, but she was determined not to vomit.

"My lady," said Snowmane shakily and nosed her shoulder. "Come – King – trouble." Mallory turned and saw that King Rufus was indeed in trouble. He was being attacked furiously by three Minotaurs that were not only strong but also swift and deft with their swords. One of them carried a mace and another had a club.

Mallory got onto Snowmane's back and clung to him. "Take me there."

Snowmane obeyed, but because he had fallen earlier, he couldn't gallop, but Mallory didn't mind. He was hurt: she wasn't even supposed to ride on him, but she knew the pride of a Unicorn. Snowmane would rather die charging against an enemy than lay there uselessly like a dumb horse.

His legs shook unsteadily when they were only a few feet away. Mallory whispered encouragements into his ear, but she knew, as the hot tears fell from her eyes, that he really couldn't go any further. But he still tried. "Stop, Snowmane, stop!" she said at last. "Don't do it! You're injured! I order you to stop!"

At that Snowmane fell to his legs and Mallory got off him and rushed to see if he was all right. He wasn't. His breathing was heavy and laboured and his sweat was cold. "Oh, Snowmane! I can't bear to lose you!" she kissed his nose and threw her arms around his neck.

"Go, my lady, go. I'll be – all – right."

"Snowmane!"

"Go!"

Mallory went and arrived just in time to stop a sword from meeting the King's body. All at once, the three Minotaurs' attentions were focused on her. They recognised her and remembered her from when she had killed their brethren earlier, and they were angry and they roared with all their might and rushed upon her. She blocked attacks and locked swords and counter-attacked and slashed and struck and dealt blows, but they were more difficult to defeat. Nevertheless, she was determined to defeat them, one way or another. Soon, she had brought two of them down. Mallory felt her strength ebbing away. The sword felt heavier, and every movement more reluctant and clumsy. Suddenly, the rough surface of a club hit the side of her head and the world went swam in little tiny bits and pieces of colour and dizziness and pain until it went mercifully black.


	16. Lady Mallory the Fearless

Chapter 16: Lady Mallory the Fearless

Her head was throbbing and aching so badly and the bright light didn't help one bit. Bit by bit, she forced her eyes open to see her surroundings. She found herself lying on grass and the blue sky spread out forever before her eyes. A cool breeze blew and lessened the headache a bit. The sound of hooves came thud-thud-thud gently and she felt a nudge on her shoulder, then there came a shout: "It's her, that girl Mallory, over there on the grass!" And then the ground pounded with the sound of stamping boots and suddenly she was surrounded by people.

The first face she saw was Prince Lune. "Are you all right?"

She nodded weakly. "Yes, I think." She tried to sit up, but a sharp, swift sensation stabbed up her leg and she dropped back onto the ground, overwhelmed by the pain. "Have I broken my leg?" she asked groggily.

"Which leg is it?"

"The – the left one."

Prince Lune examined it and winced a little. "No, I don't think it's broken. But it's got a terrible gash on it. Were you spiked by a mace?"

She shrugged. "I don't know." Maybe she had been slashed, maybe she hadn't. She couldn't remember.

Prince Lune scooped her up into his strong arms and said consolingly, "You'll be all right, all right? The physician will patch you up."

"He'd better," she answered and swallowed and she blanked out again.

It was days before the pain finally went away as the wound healed. Mallory was just thankful that she hadn't broken any bones, especially the bones in her head because she was sure that she had been hit by a club, but no, thankfully, nothing had been broken.

Rum, Rumil and Rumilia visited her on her third day in the infirmary. They came with a basket of fruits. Mallory was a bit dismayed that the King of Fruits wasn't included in any of it. Then she remembered Firumel and wondered if he was all right. It seemed so long ago when she had last eaten the King of Fruits with the Eagle.

"You were excellent out there!" said Rumil, and he gave her a hearty pat on her shoulder. "You should have seen yourself! I'll never look down on a girl again."

"I'm just glad that you're all right!" said Rumilia. She threw her arms around Mallory and gave her a tight hug. Mallory laughed. "So am I. Oof, Rumilia, not breathing! Not breathing!" Rumilia squealed and released her.

Then Rum came to the fore and he smiled at her. Mallory noticed that he looked a good deal older and more mature than when she had first met him. A sword of fair length hung from a belt around his waist. He seemed taller and more broad-shouldered too. Suddenly, he reminded her of Peter, and that reminded her of the Susan, Edmund and Lucy, and she wondered how they were doing now too.

"You put up a great fight with the Minotaurs," he said.

She felt her cheeks grow a bit red. "Er, thanks. You were good too."

"Not as good as you!" He laughed. "Most importantly, you saved Father's life. He admitted it himself. If you hadn't intervened in time, he could have been, I mean," he gulped, "Archenland would have lost a King."

"Don't you say that, Rum," said Mallory. "It's done and over with."

"I know." He grinned. "But I've got better news. Father's going to knight you!"

Her eyes widened. "Knight me?"

"As soon as you're well!" exclaimed Rumil. "You're going to be a Lady, Mallory! Imagine that! At first we insisted on 'Sir' because 'Lady' sounds a little too sissy, but - "

"There's nothing wrong with being a Lady!" said Rumilia hotly. "Really! Boys!"

Mallory couldn't help but grin as her spirits soared. Lady Mallory! Hmm . . .

A week later, Mallory was finally allowed to leave the bed. Never had the freedom of walking and running been so refreshing and wholesome to her! The very afternoon after her discharge, she played tag with Rum, Rumil and Rumilia, a game in which even Prince Lune, Prince Mar, and Prince Marril took part in. Prince Marril taught her how to hawk with his falcon, Beatnik, and Mallory fell in love with the sport at once, much to the disapproval of Rumilia.

After she had ran and laughed as hard as she could, Mallory went to visit Snowmane in the stables, accompanied by Rum, Rumil and Prince Lune. Rumilia hated the smell of horses so she went back to her room so that she could get ready for dinner.

Rumil shook his head sadly. "She's going to grow up to be a vain-pot, that's for sure."

Snowmane had indeed sprained his leg, but the vet was a very experienced and skilled one, so the Unicorn had managed to recover quicker than Mallory. She laughed with pure joy when she saw that he was truly all right. In fact, he was already so well that he consented to give rides to Rum and Rumil. They were about to ask Snowmane if he would give them more rides when Prince Lune announced that it was time to get back to the castle for dinner.

"Can we stay a little longer? Please?" begged Rumil.

"Come on, Rumil. You heard Lune," said Rum. "I'd sure like my dinner now."

"Well said, Rum," said Mallory. Rum grinned at her.

At dinner, there was even more good news for them. King Rufus announced that it was high time that he stepped down from the throne and Prince Lune ascended it, as he had proved himself more than worthy in the battle of Anvard. The Prince blushed furiously as the dining hall erupted in cheers and claps.

"And as for Mallory," said King Rufus as he smiled at her, "she will have her reward for saving not only my life but also the fate of all Archenland. She will be knighted tomorrow at the coronation of Prince Lune." Rum and Rumil cheered and yelled and clapped Mallory heartily on the back, who could only manage to smile.

The castle was turned topsy-turvy the next morning as everyone prepared for the coronation. New tapestries were hung on the walls, suits of armour were polished to perfection, the great hall decorated with carpets and the dais cleaned and scrubbed until it shone. Mallory had an especially difficult time. She was forced to try on countless dresses until the handmaidens finally settled on an emerald-green dress with a fitting bodice. And that wasn't even the end of it; she had to sit patiently on before the mirror as her wavy, dark hair was fussed and tousled and pinned up so many times that she lost count, but at last her hair was left alone to hang loosely around her shoulders, of which Mallory felt extremely uncomfortable because she was so used to having her hair tied up in a ponytail. But she had to admit that she looked a thousand times better than before, so she didn't complain.

Prince Lune's coronation went first, and it was a grand event. He was decked in clothes truly fit for a King. It was an emotional moment when King Rufus removed the crown from his head, a golden circlet studded with rubies, and placed it on his son's head. "May you have a long and prosperous reign, and don't you dare go about losing your head!" said King Rufus kindly.

"I won't, Father," said the-now King Lune and they hugged. Rufus clapped his son on his back and kissed his forehead. "You will always have my blessings, my son!" Then Rufus descended from the dais and King Lune ascended it and sat on the seat that his father had vacated.

"Long live, King Lune! Long live, Archenland!"

After the applause had subsided, King Lune stood and drew his sword and held it upright. "I call upon Mallory of Narnia," he announced solemnly.

Mallory left her post at the stone chairs and walked up nervously towards the dais, her fingers clutching the sides of her skirts. She ascended one step, and she knelt and bowed her head. The silence of the great hall felt heavy and tense, until King Lune finally said, "For your heroic courage and selfless deeds in the battle of Anvard, whereupon you had saved the life of the King Rufus, I knight you Lady Mallory the Fearless, and from now on, you shall be Lady Mallory of Archenland."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I hear, I honour, and I obey," she recited the lines that had been taught to her earlier. King Lune touched her shoulder with his sword and placed a thin, silver circlet on her head. Mallory couldn't help but be astounded, because even if the silver showed her lesser rank, the circlet itself proved her to be a member of the royalty of Archenland.

"Welcome to the family, Mallory," whispered King Lune as he winked at her.

News came soon from Narnia of the defeat of the White Witch and the crowning of its new Kings and Queens, who were doubtlessly King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy. Mallory wished she could have been there to witness their coronation, but it was just her bad luck. All of Archenland rejoiced: the evil time was over and done with.

Mallory learnt that being a Lady was not as easy as it seemed to be. The very next day, she was told by King Lune that she was to attend the lessons with Rum and Rumil. Mallory fussed and grumbled, but King Lune's words were law, so there was nothing much she could do about it. However, the good thing was she was allowed to do anything she wished on weekends.

One day when she was studying History with Rum and was trying to memorise some very troublesome facts, her mind flew to Father Christmas's house at Mount Pire and she suddenly remembered something very important.

"My Chest!" she exclaimed, startling Rum.

"What? What chest?"

"It's the Chest – the Enchanted Chest – oh, what would you know about it?" And without even bothering to excuse herself from the class, she dashed for the stables, fetched Snowmane and tried to convince him to give her a ride to Mount Pire.

"No, my lady! Not without proper provisions!" said the Unicorn sternly. "And certainly not without telling King Lune first!" Mallory was very cross when she heard this, but she couldn't deny the truth in this, and so she trooped back towards the castle and told King Lune of her wish to visit the House of Father Christmas to fetch 'a very important belonging'. Fortunately for her, he was in a good mood and he allowed her to go, as long as she took Rum with her because it wouldn't be fair for him.

"Where are we going?" asked Rum as they both went down back to the stables, already changed into their riding attire.

"To the House of Father Christmas. I have to get my Chest back."

"Father Christmas!" his eyes lit up. "Surely – you know him?"

Mallory almost said, "He's my brother,", but checked herself just in time.


	17. Aslan Tells Mallory A Little Bit More

Chapter 17: Aslan Tells Mallory A Little Bit More

It was a good four days before they reached Mount Pire. Snowmane claimed they would have reached there faster if it wasn't for Rum's mare, whose speed was no match for a Unicorn and thus they had to wait for them a good many times. Unfortunately, Snowmane was unfamiliar with the Father Christmas's territory, and this upset Mallory greatly.

Suddenly, she remembered something and felt about in her leather pouch. Her fingers grasped an odd-shaped thing and she pulled it out. "A golden pine-cone!" she exclaimed, and then it all came back to her: "The Silver Tree!"

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the very same tree materialised into view. They all stopped before it in wonder. It was still the same old silver pine tree, still shining as brightly as a beacon. The bell was still hanging at the very top of the tree, and the pine-cones were still glittering gold. Rum's jaw had dropped out of pure amazement.

"Go ahead, Rum!" said Mallory. "Pick a pine-cone. You're allowed to pick one."

"Really?"

"Trust me, I've been here before."

Just as Rum had rounded the tree and selected one, there was a sharp ting! in the air, like a bell that had been tapped. Mallory looked up and saw a shape hovering at the bell, and then the shape became well-defined, and she realised what it was.

"FIRUMEL!"

There was a loud, cackle-like laugh, and then Firumel himself landed right beside her and Mallory got down from Snowmane and threw her arms around the Eagle and hugged him and laughed as the tears came. "Oh, oh, Firumel! How I've missed you! How are you? Are you all right?"

Firumel laughed. "Oh, I am, all right. Never better! Narnia is so beautiful now that the winter is gone. And the Sea! The glorious Sea! Oh, things have really turned out so well now. Everything is right again. And what of you? My goodness, you've grown!"

"Have I? I've been knighted, Firumel: I'm Lady Mallory now!"

"I would never have believed it! But you do deserve it, I suppose, bringing all those gifts from Father Christmas and running away to Anvard without even taking me - "

"It was all on Aslan's orders! Where's Aslan? How is he? Is he all right?"

"Aslan – Aslan all right? Of course he is! He was the one who killed the Witch. Ooh, you missed it, Mallory, you did! But it's not important now. Anyway, he's not in Narnia anymore."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know. None of us do. He's always like that you know, and he's got other countries to look after. Not to mention he's not the sort of Lion you can hold down in one place. He's not tame, after all. But he'll be back when he means to. Oh, he'll be back."

Then Mallory introduced Rum to Firumel and they all made for Father Christmas's House. Firumel had been waiting in his House for Mallory, because he knew that she would come sooner or later for her Chest, and he didn't think that he would like to go knocking at the doors of Anvard asking for her. Soon, they arrived at the very House of Father Christmas itself, where Father Christmas was sitting on the doorstep smoking a pipe and surrounded by his reindeers. He beamed and stood when she came to him.

And wonder of all wonders, her Chest was sitting right on the doorstep beside him. She knelt beside it and opened it and found that all her things were still there. Suddenly, she burst into tears and Rum put a comforting arm around her.

"What's the matter, Mallory?" asked Father Christmas kindly. "What are you crying for?"

"Oh, oh, Father Christmas – Algaurs - " she stopped, but he only smiled so she continued, "I want to speak to him – Aslan. I still haven't asked him – and – and I want to speak to so many people – Cheeveereep, and Corcus and Grumbus and the rest of the Talking Mice – but I suppose they've all gone back to Narnia – I didn't even thank them – and there's Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy, especially Peter, I didn't get a chance to make up to him – and Susan and Edmund and Lucy I didn't even say goodbye - " and then it was all too hard to bear.

"You wished to speak to me?" a warm and regal voice said.

Mallory looked up and saw to her utmost surprise and delight that the voice belonged to Aslan himself. There he stood, only a few paces away in all his golden and warm glory. He came towards her and gave her a warm lick. "Come, Mallory. Your story is unfinished. I will tell a bit more of it now and resolve your doubts." Mallory nodded and followed him to the willow tree.

"Mallory," he began slowly, and Mallory placed a hand in his mane. How she had missed its soft texture! She remembered him as the boy, her brother, and wished that he would become that boy now, but somehow she knew that he would never do that again.

"Mallory," he said again, but this time he finished his sentence, "I had not meant for this to be known to you, but now I feel that you are old enough to acknowledge it and understand it: why I banished you from this world." Mallory held her breath. This was it. She had waited long for this moment.

"I will tell you the full truth, Mallory. There will be no stone left that is not overturned. I sent you into the world of Adam because you had caused harm in Narnia. Yes, you had led the Narnian army against Jadis, but the victory is brief. I was foolish for assigning you to keep watch on her. I should have let you kill her, but it was not in my nature. Not when the world was so young and so full of goodness. But I was wrong. She persuaded you to chop down the Tree of Protection, and you did." There, Aslan paused, and Mallory let the tears fall from her eyes. Even if it wasn't her doing, yet she felt the sorrow, the painful regret and the raw remorse that ate away at her heart. But all those went away when he put a paw on her shoulder. "It is over and done, Mallory. Narnia is free. Jadis is no longer here."

"What – what have you done to her then?"

"I have sent her to Adam's world," he said huskily. "To start over in a new life. Just as I have done with you, and many others that have betrayed, or killed, or did evil. I do not have the heart to kill. I want to give them second chances. But most will not remember what evil deeds they have done. That is no matter, for hopefully, if they have grown to be better people, they will return, with all good will, to Narnia."

"What if they don't repent – I mean, turn over a new leaf?"

"Then Narnia is forever closed to them until the lifespan of this world is ended."

"And then what will happen?"

"Mallory," there was a kind, but stern tone in his voice, "when that time comes you will be there by my side, along with our beloved siblings, Arundel and Algaurs, at that time. But at that time; this I will reveal to you; you will have to make a fateful choice between your love for your family and love for someone that will give you the love that no member of your family can offer, not even I. We, the Royal Children of the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea, are immortal and can live forever to descend into new worlds and begin new threads of Time, but should one of us turn away from the love that binds us together, all immortality and magic that had been bequeathed will be stripped away. But fear not just yet, for that is a long time to come. Many ages will begin and end, many kings will rule and die, and much of the land will shift and change before that time comes. Do not worry about it. For now, be happy with your new family and cherish them as if your own."

Mallory was vexed about this, even though she knew she wasn't supposed to, but Aslan breathed a warm and sweet breath upon her that felt like a loving caress and she cast it away.

"Aslan, will I ever be sent home, I mean, to Adam's world, again?"

Aslan thought about it, then he said, "Yes. But you will return. You will."

The long curtains of the willow tree swayed and sighed like a forlorn lover. Aslan sighed sadly and kissed her on her forehead, his whiskers tickling her a bit. Then he melted into the breeze and was gone just like that.

After a hearty lunch and a happy reunion with the band of Narnians (they too had been living in the vicinity of the House of Father Christmas) and they had been waiting for her to come.

"Now, fair lady, that we have seen that you are in perfect health and elevated status," said Cheeveereep, and Mallory had to laugh at this point, "We can return at last in peace to Narnia with rested hearts."

"Believe us, my lady," said Corcus, "this was all his idea. He was so eager to see you!" Cheeveereep blushed as they all laughed.

"We should be going, Mallory," said Rum after a while.

"Yes, we should. I had only meant to fetch my Chest - "

" – and talk to Aslan," finished Father Christmas with a twinkle in his eye.

"That too. It's been lovely meeting up with all of you. Do come and visit me at Anvard. Oh, I'll miss all of you for sure!"

"So will we!" said Firumel, and Mallory could have sworn she had seen tears form in his eyes. She hugged him and said, "Do visit. Or maybe I'll visit you!"

Firumel laughed. "I'll be in Cair Paravel if you need me."

"Why's that?"

"I'm one of the King's Advisors, that's why!"

Mallory clapped her hands joyfully. "Oh, Firumel, that's wonderful!"

"It certainly is," he beamed. Then he exclaimed suddenly, "I almost forgot! Oh, dear me! How forgetful of me . . . the High King of Narnia charged me with this message, oh dear, what was it?" he screwed up his face in deep thought while Mallory's heart stopped a little. A message from Peter?

"Ah! I have it! He said that he's sorry for yelling at you, earlier, and he would like you to come visit them at Cair Paravel, and do tell him before you come so that they can prepare for your visit."

Mallory laughed. "Oh, is that it? Well, Firumel, tell him that, yes, I'd like to come, but not at the moment because I've got plenty of catching-up to do now that I'm a Lady of Archenland . . ."

THE END (FOR NOW)

Author's note: Huhu, we've reached the end of this leg of Mallory's story! But despair not, for I've got plenty more of adventures in store for our heroine. If you'd like a sequel (or prequel or whatever) put up, I'll be more than happy to continue her story. Just drop me a review, will you?


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